The Corridor
by JamiW
Summary: Second in the "Free" series.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This picks up immediately post-Free

* * *

**Bobby POV**

* * *

A lie is most easily believed when sandwiched between two truths.

"Captain, I need to take some time. My aunt in Minnesota is having some health issues. A week ought to do it," I said on a Thursday.

And then a day later.

"Captain, I'd like to take a week of vacation time. I've been putting off doing some work to my apartment for quite a while now. Besides, if Bobby's going to be off next week, then it's really better if we're just gone at the same time," Alex said.

Two days later, we were packed and ready to go. We jumped through the hoops necessary to take our weapons with us. Alex didn't like to go anywhere without hers and me, well, let's face it. I have a propensity to find trouble. Or rather, it tends to find me.

I've been to many places all around the world, but I'd never been to Mexico, or more specifically, the Riviera Maya. And even if I had, I'd certainly never been with Alex, so that made this a completely new experience.

And what an experience it was. I wasn't a lay-on-the-beach kind of guy, and Alex knew that, so instead we spent our days exploring the Yucatan Peninsula. The area is steeped in history, and I couldn't resist. Alex was a good sport about it all. In fact, I'd say she enjoyed learning about the culture as much as I did. We walked hand in hand through the ruins of Chichen Itza and Tulum, and we shopped at the market in the streets of Playa Del Carmen.

But much as I enjoyed the days, the nights were even better. Warm breeze blowing in from the Caribbean Sea, Alex dressed in little flowing sundresses, the two of us together on a hammock on the beach…we were about as far from being New York detectives as we could possibly be. And the strange thing was, I was perfectly fine with that.

In fact, the day before we were due to fly home, I realized that I just wasn't ready to go back. Some might say this was no surprise considering we were on vacation in a tropical paradise. But for me, it was a huge surprise. I'd never spent five days in a row not even _thinking_ about work.

So while Alex was organizing her clothes back into her suitcase, I was making use of the laptop. I had an idea.

"Hey, honey," I began. Yeah, I called her honey. She liked it, and I liked it. And it would be tough not using it at 1PP, but I would manage.

"What are you concocting," she asked playfully. She knew me far too well.

"I was thinking…" I stopped when she laughed out loud.

"When are you not thinking?" I got up from the computer and grabbed her from behind and started tickling her.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all about an hour ago when you were doing that thing with your tongue…"

"Bobby!" She swatted at me and I let her go.

"Anyway," I began again with great fanfare. "We have a layover in Miami. What if we just get off there, and rent a car and take a few days to drive home?"

That took her completely by surprise, but I could tell she liked the idea.

"Drive from Miami? That'll take awhile."

"It's about twenty hours. I figured we could take an extra three or four days, drive up I-95. We're not due back to work until Monday anyway." It was Friday. If I planned correctly, we would leave Miami on Saturday, and get home on Tuesday or Wednesday.

"So we go back on Thursday instead?" she asked.

"One of us. If we're going to ask for more time, then we can't ask for the same amount. That would look suspicious. You've got more days banked than I do. I'll go back Thursday and you go back the next Monday."

Alex grinned at me and put her arms around my neck.

"See, there are advantages to being with a genius. You come up with some of the best ideas."

"There's more where that came from," I said huskily, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist. "How about if we get up early to watch the sunrise. Maybe find an isolated hammock somewhere…"

So our last morning in Mexico was spent making love on the beach while the sun played dark pink and purple across the early morning sky. It was a moment that will be forever etched in my mind. In fact, it was so good that then I started to panic. It was too good. Something bad was going to happen. My life just didn't work this way.

"You're allowed to have a good life, Bobby," Alex told me as we flew over the Gulf of Mexico. She had sensed the change in my mood.

"I know," I said unconvincingly. She sighed and held my hand a little tighter.

"Don't you think, with all the crap you've been through your entire life, that you're due? And I mean due for more than just a week of happiness?"

"That's true," I admitted with a wry grin. "I'm probably good for at least another few days."

Alex smiled at me and patted my leg.

"That's right. So let's rent some kind of convertible, and visit every little-known historical site we can find all the way back to New York." I smiled back at her and shook off my sense of foreboding.

"Good plan. You know, in St Augustine there's a national monument called Castillo de San Marcos. The Spanish built it to stake their claim on the New World in 1565, but then they realized…"

"Bobby," she interrupted softly.

"Yeah?"

"We'll go check it out. And anywhere else you want to stop, okay?" I pulled her hand up to my lips and kissed the knuckles. I had never imagined that being in love would feel this good.

Five hours later, we were in our rented Mustang convertible, whizzing our way up Highway One. We had decided to follow the coast through most of Florida before cutting over to I-95 near Jacksonville, which was where we stayed that first night. Then on Sunday, we made it up to Richmond, Virginia. That was where Alex called Ross. I had already called before we left Mexico, so he knew to not expect me until Thursday.

"Captain. I need to take another week, if that's okay," she said. She was wearing a huge grin and nothing else. I picked up her foot and started kissing along the arch. I heard her suck in a breath.

"Oh really? Bobby's not coming back until Thursday? No, I haven't talked with him." I set down one foot and mouthed _'liar'_ to her before I picked up the other. She motioned wildly for me to stop, but I didn't.

"No, I…um…I just uh…" She swatted at me again to stop my mouth's progress up her calf, but I was enjoying seeing her squirm.

"No, I'm fine, Captain. I just got distracted for a minute there. No, I just got involved in a project here that's taking longer than I anticipated." I was now up to her knee and moving onto her thigh, so I figured she was going to wrap up the conversation quickly. I was right.

"Yes, sir, so if it's okay with you…great. Okay. See you next Monday." She slammed her phone closed and threw it to the floor.

"That was just wrong," she chastised me.

"So you want me to stop?"

"Not _now_, no!" she laughed. "Now, you damn well better finish what you started."

We were staying at the Jefferson Hotel in the heart of downtown Richmond. It was a beautiful place, and I was glad that we had opted to come straight through the city rather than take the bypass. So an hour or so after Alex's phone call to Ross, we got cleaned up and ready to find some dinner. I raised an eyebrow at Alex when I saw her pull her holstered weapon out of her suitcase.

"We're in downtown Richmond," she said simply. "Its murder rate is six times that of the national average."

"And you say I know weird facts."

"Well, you do," she insisted as she clipped on the holster to the waistband of her perfectly-fitting jeans. "Who else knows that there's a cotton museum in Bishopville, SC?"

"I'm sure all the fine citizens of Bishopville know about it," I countered good-naturedly. But I also followed her lead and got out my weapon as well. If Alex was concerned about safety, then who was I to argue?

We decided to walk since it was a nice night and we were properly armed. We held hands and strolled slowly.

"We should spend the night in Baltimore tomorrow," Alex suggested. "I've never stayed at the Inner Harbor before."

"Sounds good to me. Then we can drive on home Tuesday. Some of us have to work on Thursday."

"Hey, this looks like a good place," Alex said suddenly as we passed a little café. And it did look nice. It wasn't commercialized or overly crowded. It actually reminded me of our usual hangouts in New York.

We went into the diner and found a booth.

"So?" I asked once we were seated.

"An elderly couple in the back booth on the right, three teenage boys at the counter, and a young couple in a booth about half-way down," Alex said promptly. It was a game we'd started in Mexico. The cop-observation instinct never went away.

"Okay, but what kind of shirts are the boys wearing?" I challenged.

"T.J.H.S." she replied with a grin. "Thomas Jefferson High School, I'm guessing?"

"You're good."

The bell on the diner's door rang, and I looked up to see who was coming in. Two men, dressed in jeans and leather, with hair slicked back. They looked like New York thugs.

"Alex," I began as my internal alarm started ringing. And then the men pulled out shotguns.

"Everybody down on the ground!"

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV**

* * *

_Really?_ That was all I could think. _Really, this is going to happen now_? After all of the time I'd spent convincing Bobby that just because he was happy, it didn't mean that something bad was getting ready to happen.

But now, here we were, face down on the floor in a diner in Richmond, Virginia, held hostage by two lunatics wielding shotguns.

And I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to rob this place, especially not in such a flamboyant manner. Something more was going on here.

"You'd better get me my money," the larger of the two men said to the guy behind the counter.

"I've got your money, Paulie. I'll get it." The guy behind the counter, apparently the owner of the diner, went into the back room. Okay, so the big guy was Paulie.

"We've got to do something," I whispered to Bobby. He nodded, but kept his eyes on the men with the guns. I looked around the diner and saw that all of the customers had their heads to the ground.

"No one saw anything, right?" The other man shouted. He had a Brooklyn accent. He walked toward the group of teenage boys while Paulie kept an eye out for cops.

"Ain't that right, frat boys?" he asked as he pulled wallets from their pockets. I watched as he took the cash from their wallets.

"Right, Richard Clemmons?" he asked after looking at a driver's license. He was using mafia scare tactics: _Don't talk about what you saw, because I know who you are and I know where you live_.

The smaller of the two men finished making his rounds while the other still stood guard. Bobby tensed when the man took his wallet, but didn't say anything. Fortunately, his badge was in his jacket, which lay on the seat of the booth. I wasn't so lucky. My badge and wallet were in my purse on the table. The man picked it up.

"Hey Paulie! Guess what we have here. It's Alexandra Eames of the New York City Police Department," the man said, although he kept the gun pointed at Bobby. I guess he was more afraid of him than me. Paulie ignored him as the diner owner returned from the backroom.

"Our boss lives in New York, _Alexandra_. Maybe he can come visit you." I saw Bobby move slightly, and I spoke to him with my eyes. _Just wait_. That damn shotgun was much too close to his chest for my comfort.

"Come on, Frankie," Paulie said. The diner owner had just handed him a paper sack. "We need to get out of here."

So now we've got Frankie and Paulie. _No, they're not gangster wanna-be's_.

But just then, the man behind the counter pulled out a gun. He fired, but missed, and then Paulie let out a blast with his shotgun. The woman behind the counter screamed as the man fell to the ground. Frankie then shot twice into the ceiling to get everyone's attention.

"Nobody saw nothing!" he shouted. Then he looked at me, "You got that cop lady?" And then Paulie and Frankie took off running. Bobby and I were up in a flash, hot on their heels.

"Call 9-1-1!" Bobby yelled as we slammed through the door. Out on the sidewalk, people were everywhere, but there was a wave of movement where on-lookers were making a hole for the two men with shotguns. Weapons in hand, Bobby and I followed. Around the corner, into an alley and out the other side, and then they split up.

"I've got Frankie, you get the big guy!" I shouted without breaking stride. Frankie looked to be heading for a car. I had to get to him before he got to it, or he would be history. There were too many bystanders around for me to risk firing my gun, not to mention that I had no jurisdiction in Virginia, so instead I tucked my weapon back into its holster and pumped my legs as fast as they would go. Just as he approached the vehicle, I threw myself at him.

My hands caught him at the ankles and he fell forward into the side of the car. Sirens were fast approaching, so I knew all I had to do was stall him another minute. He knew it, too, so he started kicking frantically. He hadn't had a chance to reload his shotgun, so instead he used it like a nightstick, swinging it down to catch me in the back. I kicked at his crotch with everything I had, and it sent him howling to his knees. I scrambled away from him and got to my feet, jerking the shotgun from his hands.

"Drop the weapon and put your hands up!" _Finally._ Richmond police. I quickly tossed the shotgun and stepped away from Frankie. One of the cops approached me and roughly shoved me against the car.

"I'm armed," I told him swiftly. "I'm with the NYPD. This man was committing a robbery back at Cary Street Diner."

The cop took my weapon from my waistband and let me turn around to face him.

"You got any I.D.?"

"It's back at the diner. My partner was with me. He chased the other suspect when they split up two blocks over," I told him, pointing out the direction that Bobby had gone.

"Okay. Just relax. We'll get the whole story," the officer told me. Another officer put handcuffs on Frankie, while a few witnesses came forward.

"She was chasing him," one lady said. "He was the one carrying the shotgun."

"Why don't you have a seat in my car while we get this sorted out?" the officer said, guiding me to the back of his cruiser. I wasn't crazy about it, but I could understand that he needed to verify my identity. And at least he didn't put cuffs on me, so he most likely believed me.

The other cop was shoving Frankie in the back of another car when the thug put his shoulder against the door frame to stop the motion. He gave me a look.

"I don't forget a face or a name, Alexandra Eames," he threatened.

"Shut up and get in," the cop told him, pushing him into the backseat and slamming the door.

"Have you found the other guy yet?" I asked the first officer. He was still standing next to the open back door of the cruiser, and he had just finished a call.

"Big guy?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, we got him." I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked through the throng of people on the streets, straining to see Bobby's head. I was sure once Paulie was in custody that Bobby would be in a hurry to get to me. He always worried when I was out of his sight.

"Good. He's the one that shot the guy at the diner. I'd be more than happy to give you a statement."

We chatted for a few more minutes, and then word came across the radio that my purse, complete with I.D. and badge, had been located. The officer let me out of the back.

"So the other guy is the one who did the shooting?" I nodded and the officer pulled out his radio again.

"Yeah, Sergeant Watkins here. The NYPD cop here says the big guy is the one who did the murder. Throw him in a holding cell until I get there."

"Hey Sergeant!" one of the other officers called out. I guess my guy was the one in charge. I watched as he went to look in the trunk of Frankie's car. He spoke to the officer for a minute and then came back to me.

"The trunk was filled with guns. It's a common use of the I-95 Corridor," the sergeant told me. Of course, I knew that. A lot of those guns ended up in New York. "Looks like you stopped a nice little shipment here."

"Good to know. Maybe that'll make my job a little easier when I get back home," I joked half-heartedly. There was still no sign of Bobby. "Hey, where did you pick up the other guy at?"

"Five blocks that way,"' he pointed.

"Okay, I'm going to head that way and see if I can find my partner. Where do you want me to go to make my statement?"

"1st Precinct. 2501 Q Street. You can pick up your weapon when you get there."

"Okay," I conceded. "I'll meet you there." I started walking in the direction that Bobby had gone, but I couldn't find him. I was starting to get worried. I called his cell phone, but it went to voice mail.

By the time I had retraced all of the steps, from where Sergeant Watkins had told me that Paulie was arrested all the way back to the alley where Bobby and I had split up, I was in full panic mode. So much so that I didn't hear the footsteps behind me until it was too late. A thick arm wrapped itself around my throat.

"You fucked us good, Alexandra. My boss is not going to be happy."

It was Paulie. _What the fuck?_

"Sounds like a personal problem to me," I said, acting as though his arm _wasn't _cutting off my air supply.

"It's going to be _your_ personal problem. That shipment was worth eight hundred g's."

"Then you should've just taken it on up to New York instead of stopping here to rob a small-time diner." I was trying to keep him talking while I decided my course of action. There's all kinds of moves a person can do to get out of a situation like this, but when the aggressor is pushing three times the weight of the submissive, it makes it a little more difficult.

"I wasn't robbing that diner, bitch. I was collecting a debt."

"I didn't see you bringing him any guns. So he pays you for what, protection?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Well, he won't be paying you any more, will he?" I said, knowing that he most likely hadn't been instructed to actually _kill_ the guy at the diner.

"Looks like you fucked _yourself_ good on that one," I added. He relaxed just slightly as he considered my comment. And that's when I made my move.

I pushed off the ground a little and jammed my head back as hard as I could, catching him in the nose. It hurt my head, but not nearly as much as it hurt his nose. He relaxed his grip further, and I grabbed onto his arm with both hands. Then I jammed my heel into his instep, caught my foot behind his leg, and then threw all of my weight backwards.

We both went down, but I was on top and he had released his hold. I rammed my elbow into his gut and then got to my feet. Paulie was yelling obscenities and had one hand over his nose, which was bleeding profusely. The other hand was grabbing for the shotgun that he had lost his grip on when we fell. I couldn't wait around. I was unarmed and only the element of surprise had allowed me to get the drop on him. I ran.

"You're dead, bitch!" he shouted. I didn't look back, but I heard the pump of the shotgun just as I rounded the corner, out of the alley and into the crowd of people. There were still a few cops hanging around, so I found one and told him about Paulie.

"But we've already caught the guy," one assured me.

"I'm telling you, he's in the alley!" I yelled, losing my cool. The cop gave me a condescending look and shook his head. I regrouped.

"Okay then. There's a guy in the alley that just assaulted me. He's armed with a shotgun. Go get him!" I was getting pretty frustrated with the lack of cooperation, and I was going out of my mind worrying about Bobby. The cops followed me back to the alley, but of course, Paulie was long gone.

"If you want to come down to the precinct, you can file a report."

"Oh, I'm coming down to the damn precinct," I promised hotly. And then I remembered that the other cops still had my purse with the keys to the rental car that was still parked back at the hotel. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

"Can you give me a ride?"

So I ended up in the back of a cruiser again. I called Bobby's cell a couple more times, but it kept going to voice mail. And then I got a call.

"Eames," I answered crossly, not recognizing the number.

"Alex, it's me," he sounded relieved and upset all at the same time. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine, Bobby. Where are _you_?"

"I'm at the police station. I'm being held on suspicion of murder."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I knew it. I love Alex more than anything in this world, but I knew she was wrong. Sustained happiness is just not possible, not for me. One minute I'm staring into her beautiful amber eyes and the next I was face down on a dirty parquet floor. And then it had gone downhill from there.

"Mr. Goren." I looked up from my seat in the holding cell. An officer was waiting at the door. "Let's go, pal."

Pal. _I'm not your fucking pal_. I had told the guy several times that I was a detective with the NYPD. But of course, my badge was in my jacket back at the diner. And they couldn't possibly send someone back there to check it out, could they?

And then the word came in that an NYPD cop had I.D.'d me as the shooter. _What?_ Obviously, I knew Alex hadn't done that, and despite the confusion over whatever she might've said, I was grateful to hear the news anyway. If Alex had given a statement, then it meant that she was probably okay. I had been worried out of my mind when we had to split up. I took the larger guy, the one who still had a half-loaded shotgun, but still…

And then when Paulie got away from me and I found myself surrounded by cops, it was déjà vu all over again. It was just like when Alex had been kidnapped and the cell phone had been tracked to Declan, causing us to get surrounded. I did the same thing this time, too. I got down on the ground with my hands over my head. Only this time I didn't have my badge or my captain there to back me up.

And that was another thing. I couldn't even call the captain to have him confirm my identity. I was in Minnesota, right? I mean, I _would_ call him if it came down to it, but I was going to try to wait this thing out. I would get my one phone call and Alex would come to vouch for me. That was the plan, anyway.

"Make your call," the officer said, shoving a phone across his desk at me.

"Am I under arrest?" I asked.

"What are you, a lawyer?"

"No, I'm a cop. I've been telling you that for an hour."

"Whatever. Make your call."

So I made the call. Alex said she was on the way to the precinct. She hadn't gone back to the diner to get my jacket, so it was hard to say what was going to happen to my badge, but that was fine. Clearly Alex had already confirmed her identity, so they would take her word for it that I was who I said I was. And so far, I hadn't been fingerprinted nor had I been processed into the system. That was a small bit of good fortune, because I could only imagine what Ross would say if word got back to him that I had been arrested. For murder. While in Virginia. There were just too many things wrong with that scenario. So, I had agreed to be held for questioning of my own free will in order to prolong the official arrest.

After I hung up with Alex, the officer escorted me back to the holding cell. I noticed that Frankie had been brought in while I was gone. He recognized me immediately and made his way to the back of the cell in an effort to get away from me.

"What's the matter, Frankie?" I asked him. "Not so brave now without your shotgun?"

The other offenders in the cell with us looked at Frankie. They probably thought there was going to be a fight in a few minutes.

"He got caught by a woman," I informed our audience. "A little five-foot-two woman." Frankie turned red, and a couple of the guys chuckled.

"Well, I guess Paulie took care of you," he countered. "You're in here and he's not. He's probably out killing your little bitch right now." My heart lurched into my throat for a moment, but then I remembered that Alex had said she was in the cop car so I knew that she was safe. Frankie was bluffing.

"I don't think so. He'll be in here soon enough."

"You better hope so."

I'd had enough of Frankie, so I went back to my spot on the bench. I was easily the biggest man in the room, so no one bothered me.

Twenty minutes later, Alex arrived. How did I know? Because I could hear her from across the squad room.

"You managed to get my purse from the diner to confirm my identity. You couldn't have someone look for his jacket? Is that what you call professional courtesy?"

"Ma'am, I assure you…"

"Don't patronize me," she interrupted. "It would've taken one minute to call over to one of the officers at the scene."

"We offered to call his captain, but he refused." Silence. _Can't call him, can we Alex? _

"Okay, fine. Just let him out." A minute later, the officer came back with an amused look on his face.

"Goren," he called out. I stood up and went to the door while he put the key in the lock.

"That's your partner?" he asked. I nodded. "She's a pistol, huh? I bet she busts your balls on a daily basis." I didn't respond. I decided it was safer that way.

"See you later, _Goren_," Frankie called to me. I looked back at him and he waved. "And I mean that."

Two hours later, Alex and I were cleared to leave the precinct. We had each given our sworn affidavits as to what we had witnessed in the diner, and both had promised to make ourselves available to testify if it became necessary. We hoped that our statements would be enough, but we would have to cross that bridge when we came to it.

Alex had her purse back, but my jacket was lost in the abyss called "evidence lock-up". I wasn't sure how I would explain losing my badge to Ross, but I would come up with something.

When we finally walked out the front doors, we were exhausted and emotions were running high.

"Don't say it," she warned me as we went down the steps.

"Don't say what?"

"Whatever it is that you're getting ready to say. You're doomed to have bad luck. You're not meant to be happy. I would be better off without you. I don't know. Just don't say it."

"Alex," I said softly, grabbing her arm as we got to the sidewalk. She stopped and looked at me with unshed tears filling her eyes.

"What?"

"I wasn't going to say any of that." She looked at me dubiously. "I promise. I know I'm not doomed. And with the exception of the last few hours, I am very happy. And I don't know if you'd be better off without me or not, but I'm never going to suggest it because there's no way I can let you go."

I reached for her and she willingly nestled into my embrace.

"You do have a knack for finding trouble, though," she mumbled into my chest. I chuckled a little bit, but just kept holding her. I hated that she was upset, but I loved it that she didn't feel she had to hide her emotions from me.

"I was worried about you," I told her. "And then Frankie was brought into the holding cell, so I figured you must have taken him down."

"I caught him as he was going for his car. He had a trunk full of guns."

"Corridor gun runners?"

"Looks like it. Paulie caught up to me after you got arrested."

"What?" I pulled away from her a little so that I could see her face as she told me what had happened in the alley.

"Did the cops catch him?"

"No. They thought they already _had_ the killer. They had you."

"What a royal cluster fuck this turned out to be," I muttered.

"He said he would be coming after me," she said quietly. My heart sank, and I remembered Frankie's earlier words.

"What exactly did he say?"

"He told me that I was dead. I cost him and his buddies an eight-hundred thousand dollar shipment of guns. These are mob guys, Bobby." I knew that. I _knew_ that, but he had threatened her?

"He knows my name, he knows I work for the NYPD. It won't be that hard for him to find me."

"Then let's find him first," I said, my bravado coming to the forefront. Alex smiled at me.

"I was going to say that."

"I know. I know everything, remember?" I teased, glad that we could be playful with each other even in a time of crisis.

"Do you know the license plate number of Frankie's car?" she asked me.

"No."

"I do," she said with a grin. We went to the curb and hailed a cab. I wasn't going to risk walking after dark with a mobster after us. Especially since he would've known we'd be coming out of the police station at some point.

"No fair," I complained after I'd climbed into the backseat behind her. "I didn't even see the car, much less that license plate."

"Hey, you lose anyway. A cop sees everything, right?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow. We were back to our game.

"We need to call Logan to see if he can look up that plate for us," I said, putting my arm around Alex's shoulders. I moved my hand up to run my fingers through her hair, but she winced and pulled away from me.

"What's the matter?"

"My head's just a little sore," she admitted. I gently felt the back of her head and found a nice little knot back there.

"You got him pretty good, didn't you?"

"I think I broke his nose."

"That's two noses in two weeks," I told her, remembering how she had broken Ethan Garrett's via airbag in a game of chicken. I put my arm back on her shoulder and guided her gently until her head was leaning on my shoulder.

"Hey, did we check in under your name or mine?" she asked me suddenly when we pulled into the hotel parking lot.

"Mine," I replied. I tilted her face up so that she was looking me in the eyes, and I saw something I rarely saw in Alex. Fear.

"We're going to get this guy, honey," I assured her softly. We paid the cabbie and climbed out.

"I know," she said, taking my hand in hers and walking towards the lobby. "I know, I just don't like being on unfamiliar territory. He's got the advantage here."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Alex POV**

* * *

Paulie might have the advantage of knowing the lay of the land, but I was working with a genius. Not to mention I can be pretty damn resourceful myself. So I gathered my resolve and got to it.

First things first. We were going to stay in Richmond another day at least so that we could try to track down Paulie. We had a feeling that he wouldn't leave town without Frankie, who would have to wait for an arraignment hearing and then post bond.

That said, I didn't want to stay in the same hotel room, especially after Bobby told me that Frankie knew his last name. So, Bobby checked us out of our room, and I checked us into a new one under a different name. The clerk gave me a look when I told him I wanted to pay cash, but I badged him and gave him my patented glare. He gave me a key card and stayed quiet.

After we switched rooms, the next order of business was to call Logan. I felt for the man, I really did. It was close to one o'clock in the morning. And we were in trouble. Again. I almost hoped that he would find some trouble one of these days so that then we could help him out, just to repay the debt. And then I remembered that this was Mike Logan I was talking about. _Of course_ he would find trouble soon enough.

"I need to take a shower," Bobby told me once he had engaged the locks on the door of our new room. "I smell like jail cell."

"Okay. I'll call Mike," I offered. Bobby smiled at me suggestively.

"And here I was hoping you were going to offer to help me wash up. Instead, you're thinking about Logan," Bobby said as he started to undress.

"Yeah, well, there's something about a guy with unrestricted and unauthorized access into DMV records that just gets me hot," I teased back.

"If I'd known that was all it took, I would've hacked into their database years ago." He flashed me a grin and tossed his boxers at me before heading into the bathroom. I was glad to see he still had his sense of humor, because damn did that man attract bad luck.

I used my cell to call Logan and prepared myself for his tirade.

"Logan," he answered roughly.

"Hey, Mike! It's Alex." I was trying for cheerful, but it came across as somewhat desperate.

"Eames? You do know that there are roughly eighteen hours of awake time during a twenty-four hour day, right? You don't always have to call during the six hours that I'm sleeping."

"You're pretty quick for a guy who was sleeping," I retorted.

"Okay, you caught me. I wasn't sleeping. I was fu…"

"Mike!" I shouted, interrupting his explicit description of exactly what he was doing.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to dispute that I was sleeping."

"Right. Sorry. Tell Carolyn I said hi. And that I'm sorry, but I need some help."

"Yeah, so what else is knew," he groused. "Give me a minute." He set the phone down hard, and I waited patiently while trying not to picture what I had interrupted. After a couple of minutes, he finally picked back up.

"Okay. What's going on? Hey, how was Mexico?"

"Mike, I need you to focus. Bobby and I are in some serious shit."

"So what else is new?"

"We're in Richmond."

"Virginia?" he interrupted.

"Yeah. We were having dinner earlier tonight when the place got worked over by a couple of mob guys out of New York. We chased them, they split up, I caught up to my guy and got him arrested. He had a trunk full of guns. Bobby lost his guy, and the cops arrested him by mistake. Well, not actually arrested thank God, but took him to the precinct until I could go down there and verify his identity." I said all of this on one long breath, and when I paused to breathe in again, Logan started laughing.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Could I make this stuff up?"

"No, no you couldn't. You guys have got the worst luck."

"I'm not done. So, the other guy, the one Bobby chased, came after me and threatened me. He said the shipment was worth 800 G's, and that his boss was going to be pissed. He said he was going to kill me."

"Holy shit," he said slowly. He wasn't laughing anymore. "What do you need?"

"I need you to run a plate number. The police here impounded that car, but I'm hoping it will give us some sort of lead. We want to find this guy before he finds us."

"So Bobby's out of jail, right? He's with you?"

"Yeah. He's with me. We just changed hotel rooms, got something under a fake name. But this mob guy, Paulie is his name, he's got my name and he knows I work for the NYPD. You know how these guys work, Mike. He'll come after me."

"What's your plan?"

"We think he'll stay in town long enough to bail out his buddy, Frankie. And then, I don't know. He's probably going to check in with his boss, whoever that is, and then my bet would be that he goes to New York to track me down. Eight hundred grand is a lot to lose."

"Okay. Give me the plate number. I'll get Carolyn up, and we'll see what we can find out. Give me half an hour."

"Thanks, Mike. I really appreciate it," I said after I'd relayed the information.

"Don't get all sappy on me, Eames. It's not your style." I couldn't help but grin. Logan knew I used my sharp tongue as a shield. He was trying to make sure I stayed tough.

"You're right. So hurry the hell up and find out what I need to know."

"That's better," he told me. "I'll call you back."

I hung up with Logan feeling marginally better. I wandered into the bathroom and found Bobby, fresh out of the shower, combing his hair. He had a towel around his waist and his skin was still damp and warm. I immediately wrapped my arms around him from behind and pressed my face into his back.

"You smell good again," I told him.

"Good. For awhile there I was afraid I was going to carry that stench around forever." He leaned back into me just a little and I enjoyed the moment for a few seconds longer and then I let him go.

"What did Logan have to say?" he asked.

I paused for just a minute to watch appreciatively while he pulled on clean boxers, and then I filled him in on the conversation. At some point during my recount, I caught a glimpse of my own image in the mirror. I saw that I had blood on my shirt, probably from Paulie's nose, and the skin around my neck was mottled. Bobby noticed it at the same time I did. He gently ran a finger across my throat.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine," I replied automatically. And then I looked into his dark brown eyes and the full truth spilled out of me. "I'm sore. The back of my head, my back, my throat…it's all sore. But it's nothing that a little ibuprofen won't cure."

"Let me see your back," he said firmly. I had taken that blow from the shotgun by Frankie. I took off my blouse and threw it into the trashcan. It was ruined anyway. Bobby ran his hand softly over the small of my back.

"You're going to have a nice one here," he said sadly.

"It'll heal." I grabbed the t-shirt that Bobby had laid out for himself and put it over my head instead. "Come on, put some clothes on," I told him. "We need to organize our thoughts. Logan's going to be calling back soon, and I can't concentrate with you wearing just your underwear."

Twenty minutes later, Logan called.

"What did you find out?" I asked by way of greeting. "And you're on speaker."

"The car is registered to Frank Moretti of Queens. Carolyn pulled what she could on him, and he's got a sheet as long as my arm. One of his listed known associates is Paul Visucci."

"Well, those are definitely our guys."

"There's more."

"Yeah?"

"They're reported to be wanna-be's for the Masarro family. Mobsters-in-training, so to speak."

Bobby and I looked at each other. The Masarro family was bad news. They were big time into guns and drugs, and they had a lot of cash to spread around.

"The good news in all of this," Logan continued. "Is that considering the size of this gun run, they might not be in a hurry to tell the boss man about what happened. The longer your name stays just with those two mopes, the better."

"Any idea of where they stay when they're in Richmond?" I asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," Logan replied. "Frankie's got a woman on his list of known associates. Her last known address is reported to be on Whatley Street in Richmond." Mike gave the specifics and I jotted them down.

"You two want us to come down there to back you up?"

"No, we're good. But thanks," Bobby said. We needed to do this quickly, so we couldn't afford to wait around for Logan and Carolyn to make the trip.

"Be careful, guys," he warned before we hung up.

"Want to do this tonight?" Bobby asked.

"We need to. Mike is probably right about those two wanting to put off telling the boss what happened. We stand a better chance of staying off of Masarro's radar if we can have Paulie picked up quickly. Two guys that far down the food chain won't warrant Masarro sending in a big-time lawyer. He'll write them off. He'll know his guns are gone either way."

I exchanged Bobby's t-shirt for a sweater of my own and within a few minutes, we were ready to go.

"This might be a bust. This is an old address for a known associate. That doesn't mean that's where they stay when they're here," I warned.

"I know, but it's worth a shot. It's all we've got right now. But let's try to stay together this time, okay?" he asked me as we left the hotel room.

"Fine with me. I wouldn't want you to end up in jail again," I said with a smirk.

We drove the five miles over to Whatley Street. It was dark and quiet, which was not surprising considering the hour. The houses were small and close together, but they looked decent enough.

"Do you see it?" I asked as I drove slowly down the street.

"It should be next. Up there on the right."

I drove on past the house and parked down the block. Then we got out and walked back to the house. My adrenaline was pumping and my fear was completely gone. It was _so_ much better to go on the offensive.

We wandered around the perimeter of the house, peeking through windows and trying to get a feel for who might be home.

"I'll knock," I said finally.

"Why you?"

"If the woman is home, she won't feel threatened by another woman at the door. If it's Paulie, he wants to kill me so I'm sure he'll be happy to see me," I reasoned. Bobby didn't argue. He stood to the side of the door so that he couldn't be seen through the peephole.

If Paulie was here, we were going to arrest him. We didn't have jurisdiction, but we could make a citizen's arrest, and considering he was guilty of murder, I thought we would be fine. Although it was would be tough to keep our involvement out of the media, it was worth the risk considering the alternative.

I knocked. Nothing. I knocked again.

"Check the knob," Bobby whispered. I rolled my eyes at such a ridiculous suggestion, but then stopped when I felt the knob give. It wasn't locked. Who didn't lock their door at night?

I pushed it open, but it only went a little ways before it stopped. I looked down and saw feet.

"Bobby," I began. He pushed harder against the door to give us enough room to enter.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I said.

On the floor, in the foyer, was Paulie. Dead. Two taps to the back of the head.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I leaned down and felt Paulie's neck. Not that I thought for one second there would be a pulse considering the amount of brain matter on the floor. But I wanted to feel the temperature and softness of the body. Warm and soft.

"He hasn't been dead long," I told Alex. She looked around at the mess.

"Blood is still wet, even the smaller spots," she commented. I stood quickly and looked around.

"We need to check out the house," I whispered. A fresh dead body could equal an assailant still on the property.

"Don't poke through anything," she warned me. "We're just looking for the shooter for the sake of safety. We have no authority to be here."

"I promise not to touch anything." I didn't have gloves with me. I wasn't touching anything. Paulie's neck had been more than enough.

We cleared the small house quickly, and although there was evidence that a woman lived there, she was gone now. I met Alex back in the foyer.

"There were empty peanut butter containers in the trash."

"You went through the trash?" she asked me with a hint of disbelief.

"I didn't _touch_ it. I used my pen to open the lid and just looked. The peanut butter jars were on top along with a styrofoam plate, like from ground beef."

"Jars? As in more than one?" She's quick, my Alex.

"As in three," I said with a wry grin. "Who the hell empties out three jars of peanut butter?"

My cell phone buzzed alerting me to a text. I opened it up and found one from Logan: _PWC - Maria Ricci a.k.a. Mariella De Luca a.k.a. niece of Vincenzo Masarro_

"Eames," I began as the implications of the text raced through my brain. PWC meant 'proceed with caution'. Maria Ricci was the owner of the house we were in. We thought she was just an associate of Frankie, but she was apparently a relative of the big man himself.

"Yeah?"

"Maria Ricci is actually Mariella De Luca."

"Masarro's neice?"

"You've heard of her?"

"Yeah. I went out with a guy once from OCCB. He was stuck in wire tap transcribing hell, so our entire date was a recount of a day in the life of Vincenzo Masarro."

"You went out with someone from OCCB? Who? When?" I was completely thrown. A jealous streak that I didn't know existed had just ran rampant through my system and I wasn't sure how to deal with it.

"Bobby, can we focus on our little situation here?" She looked at me, encouraging me to get back to the case at hand. I had to give myself a mental kick in the ass. _Work now, relationship later – isn't that how it works?_ A week of just being all relationship had spoiled me. _Get a grip, Goren_.

"Okay, you're right. Sorry. So if Mariella," I began. And then we heard the sirens. The front door was still open, so I leaned around the body to take a look outside.

Cop cars were barreling down Whatley Street.

"Eames, this is not going to look good," I told her quietly as the officers swiftly approached the house.

And I was exactly right. There we were, standing over the dead body of a man who had earlier threatened my partner. The same man for whom I had been mistaken and then ended up in jail. He was dead, we were armed, and we had no authority to be where we were.

"Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!" one cop called to us through a bullhorn from out on the front lawn. There was a spotlight focused on the house from a helicopter circling overhead. A helicopter? _What the hell?_ This was moving way past the point of ridiculous.

"We're NYPD!" Alex yelled, although she complied right along with me. We stood there with our guns at our feet and our hands in the air while cops in SWAT gear approached the door.

"Get down on the ground!"

"We're NYPD!" Alex repeated, despite the fact that she had an assault rifle pointed at her.

"I don't give a shit who you say you are – get your asses down on the ground! Now!" We both took a couple of steps back to avoid the blood that was oozing from underneath Paulie and then got down onto the floor. I caught Alex's eyes. She was livid.

"Check my belt," she said fiercely as one of the cops patted her down. He spent a little longer running his hands down her legs than I thought was necessary. "My badge is clipped there. We're Major Case Squad Detectives from New York."

"We came here to help you guys out," I added, trying to get the attention off of Alex. "We had a lead on the suspect in the diner shooting."

"Alright, Major Case. Get up," the officer said to Alex after he looked over her badge. She got to her feet and angrily brushed herself off. "What about you?" he asked me as he waived in more officers.

"I'm with Major Case, too. Robert Goren. You guys have my badge," I said crossly. "I got picked up by mistake earlier this evening. My badge is in my jacket, which is in Richmond PD's lock-up."

"What's going on here?" she asked. "What's with the SWAT team?"

"And the helicopter," I added.

"I ask the questions here. Why are you two here?"

"I told you," I said. "We got a lead that Paul Visucci was staying here."

"Where did this lead come from? And why didn't you call it in to Richmond PD?" He had us there. At our silence, the cop continued.

"Either of you fire your weapon here tonight?"

"No. He was like that when we got here," Alex said irritably. She was clearly offended by his suggestion that one of us might have done it. "Feel free to have your tech do a GSR test." The cop ignored her offer for the moment.

"So you just came into the house?"

"We were coming to talk to him. The door was unlocked."

"And you just walked right in."

"He threatened my partner earlier this evening," I told him. "When we heard that he might be staying here…"

"You wanted to kill him," the officer filled in. "He threatens your partner, you get some information on the sly, and you figure no one will care if a mob guy gets popped."

"What? No! I'm a cop! Maybe you do things like that in Richmond, but…"

"Bobby!" Alex interrupted. I stopped immediately. Getting mad and offending the local police was certainly not going to help our cause.

"Officer Loy," she said, leaning in to read his name tag. "We simply came here to try to help catch a killer. Maybe we should have called you first…"

"You definitely should have called us," he said.

"Okay, you're right. But the bottom line is that this dead man here is the one who killed the owner of Cary Street Diner. Our signed affidavits to that effect are at the 1st precinct. We might be overstepping our bounds here, but you know neither of us is the killer."

"And I know that how?"

"Anyone can see he was shot with a .22," I said impatiently. "Our weapons our .45's." The officer looked down at the tech who was checking the body.

"He's right, Loy, .22 caliber."

"Can I ask a question now?" I asked now that I thought we were finally on a little firmer ground. Loy looked at me and gave a little nod.

"What brought you guys out here tonight? And with SWAT and a chopper?"

Loy stared at me hard. I guess he was trying to decide how much information to share. With cops, it usually went one of two ways: share everything because the more help the better, or completely territorial. Surprisingly, he went with option one.

"We got a tip. About a half an hour ago. Woman called in and said that there was going to be a pow-wow at this address and that several Mafiosos would be in attendance."

I glanced at Eames and found that she was watching me. _What the fuck have we walked into? _I asked her silently. _You tell me_, she replied. Loy interrupted our nonverbal conversation.

"Why don't you guys come on back to the precinct with me?" he asked, although it was clearly not a question. "I'd like to go over your previous statements, as well as document a detailed account of what happened here tonight. Then I'll see what I can do about locating your badge."

* * *

Two hours later, we finally got back to our hotel room. Loy had been true to his word. We simply went over our statements, prepared new ones to cover the latest events, and then he let us go. Unfortunately, my badge had still not turned up, but I gave them my personal address so that they could send it to me if it was ever found.

Alex was quiet all the way back to the hotel, and I let her be. It had been quite an evening, and now it was a little after four in the morning.

"You should text Logan," she said quietly as we rode the elevator. "He's probably worried."

"Okay." I pulled out my phone and sent Logan a quick text that told him we were fine. If he was awake, he would probably call, but if he had fallen asleep then at least he would see it whenever he woke up.

I followed Alex into our room. She sat down heavily on the bed and sighed.

"How does this keep happening?" she asked. My heart was in my throat. _Here it comes_. I couldn't speak.

"Bobby?" she asked, standing and crossing the room to where I stood.

"I'm sorry, Alex. Really. I'm so sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"This, all of this. God, I can't even take a vacation right."

"Bobby," she said on another sigh. "You know...somewhere deep inside of you, I'm _sure_ that you know that absolutely none of this is your fault." She put her arms around my waist and held on. I still couldn't move, couldn't even wrap my arms around her.

"You _know_ it. Use that brain of yours," she said softly. "Use that wonderful brain of yours that I love so much…none of this is your fault." I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. I had been so sure she was mad at me. I began to relax incrementally as she slowly moved her hands up and down my back.

"You're right," I said finally. "It's not my fault. It's always my first reaction, you know."

"I know," she chuckled. "I'm going to have to work on reprogramming you."

"How will that work exactly?" I asked facetiously. She pulled back from me and moved her hands to my chest.

"There you go," she said with a smile. "Your sense of humor is back already. This won't be so hard." I smiled back at her.

"You know we're still in a world of shit here, right?" I asked her.

"We usually are," she answered, reaching up to kiss me. I eagerly met her lips and spent a moment or two rejoicing in the fact that even if everything else was going to hell, I seemed to be doing an okay job of keeping Alex happy. She ended the kiss and walked away from me, removing clothes as she went.

"So who's this guy in OCCB?" I asked as I followed her. I hated to possibly ruin the moment, but I had to know.

"Are you jealous, Bobby?" she asked coyly.

"You know I am."

"I didn't know you had it in you."

"I didn't either. And I'm sorry I let it get to me at the crime scene – that won't happen again. But now we're Bobby and Alex. Who's the guy?"

Alex, now completely naked, wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a scorching kiss.

"It was a long time ago. I don't even remember his name. But I know for damn sure he was no Bobby Goren."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Alex POV**

* * *

Logan called. It was four-oh-three.

"You were probably sleeping, huh?" he said when I answered. He sounded all too pleased with himself.

"We weren't sleeping, Mike, we were fu…"

"Alex!" Bobby yelled, interrupting my graphic description. I hadn't told him about that part of the earlier conversation with Logan, so he didn't realize that I was just getting payback.

Logan, on the other hand, was laughing hard.

"So you guys are okay, then?" he asked.

"Yeah, we're fine," I said. I pushed a button on my phone and then tossed it on the bed beside us. "You're on speaker."

"So what happened? I guess you got my text about Mariella." Bobby and I filled him in on what had happened.

"So Paulie's dead? And the cops raided the place? What have you guys gotten yourselves into? Oh, and where does Ross think you guys are right now?"

"Why?" I asked cautiously, not sure where he was headed.

"A mobster gets tapped and SWAT is deployed. You think this ain't gonna be in the paper? I hope you hid your faces as you left the scene."

"I didn't see any media there," Bobby said, although from the look on his face, I could tell he wasn't sure.

"You sure the chopper was police and not from a TV station?" Bobby and I were both quiet. "See now why I'm asking where Ross thinks you are?"

"Bobby's in Minnesota. I'm doing renovations to my apartment," I said with a sigh.

"You need to come up with something better than that. If that chopper was television, it could easily get picked up by the national feed."

"Yeah, okay, we'll work on a cover story. But right now we need to figure out what the hell is going on here," I said testily. I didn't like it, but Logan was right. Bobby and I were going to be exposed if this thing hit the news. Of course, that would be the least of our worries if the mafia still had a hit on my head.

"If we assume that Mariella called in the tip - and so far she's the only woman player that we know of, so it's a natural assumption - then the question is why?" Bobby asked. "She'd already killed Paulie, or was about to. Why would she want the cops there?"

"It sure set you guys up nicely."

"Yeah, but how could she have known we were coming?" I asked. We were all quiet for a minute.

"I don't know," Logan said at last. "Do you think my search did it? Her file could've been flagged so that if it was accessed, then she was notified."

"Flagged by who?" I asked. I didn't like the direction we were heading. I knew the Masarro family had a lot of wheels greased, but I was hoping that didn't include cops.

"Besides," I added. "How would she have known we were coming when we did? Just because you looked at her file didn't mean we were going to head straight there."

"Well, we need to find out," Bobby said. "And we need to find out what she's going to do with Frankie."

"What do you mean?"

"He's either a liability or an asset, but we don't know which one yet. If Paulie was killed for losing the shipment of guns, then Frankie will probably be killed, too, because they were both culpable."

"But if Frankie has a thing going on with Mariella, she might've believed him if he sold Paulie out by telling her that he was the only one to blame," I countered. "And Paulie was the one that killed the guy at the diner."

"So then what…she calls up her uncle, gets the go-ahead to whack Paulie, and now she's going to bail Frankie out?" Logan asked. We were all quiet for a minute. I heard a noise on Logan's phone that I started to ask him about when Bobby stood up suddenly and began to pace.

"Peanut butter," Bobby said abruptly.

"What?" Logan asked, echoing my thoughts.

"She's going to try to get the car out of impound." I was used to Bobby's leaps of logic, but I was struggling with this one. And then I got it.

"The dogs," I stated. Bobby looked at me and grinned.

"The dogs," he agreed.

"Help me out here, guys," Logan said. "I'm not a subscriber to the psychic hotline."

"Ground beef and peanut butter," Bobby explained. "That's what was in her trash can. She was concocting a distraction for the guard dogs at the impound lot."

"Does that actually work?"

"I have no idea. The better question would be why she wants the car back."

"The guns," Logan began and then he answered his own question. "…wouldn't still be in the car, they'd be in lock-up."

"Right. So what's in the car?"

"I'm betting something worth three quarters of a mil at least," I said. Bobby looked at me. I couldn't believe the thought hadn't occurred to me before.

"Those guns in that trunk were just ordinary guns, and I know that they can fetch a pretty good price out on the street, but there's just no way there was eight hundred grand's worth in there."

"They've got something else hidden in there. And if the cops think guns were the focus, then they don't care about the car anymore. It's actually pretty smart."

"From what I know of Masarro, my money's on drugs," Logan said.

* * *

I didn't want to sleep but my body wasn't going to give me an option. We set the alarm for eight and climbed in the bed. I slept soundly until the sun began streaming across my face. I was out of practice with such late nights after our lazy week in Mexico.

I was quiet for a moment after opening my eyes. The alarm hadn't gone off yet, so I wasn't sure what had awakened me. And then it hit me. I was alone in the bed.

Not so long ago, being alone was my status quo, but it had taken me no time at all to get used to sleeping while snuggled up against Bobby. He didn't mind my cold feet, and with him in the bed with me, no part of me stayed cold for very long.

I sat up and looked around the room. Bobby was sitting at the workstation, but his eyes were closed in thought. He wore only boxers and a t-shirt, and his hair was rumpled, likely from him having run his fingers through it a few too many times. He was scruffy from not having shaved in twenty-four hours, and he was sexy as hell.

I got out of bed and went to him, wrapping my arms around him and guiding his head to rest against my chest.

"You're restless," I commented. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm trying to sort this whole thing out," he admitted.

"Which part?" I asked. Considering what we were into, and the lies we were constructing, I couldn't begin to guess which part Bobby's mind was stuck on.

"I started out trying to figure out how Mariella knew we'd be coming, but I stalled on that so I moved on to how we're going to keep this from Ross…" He stopped talking and I waited patiently, stroking my hand along the side of his face. After several minutes, he continued.

"We're going to have to tell him."

"And have him know we've been lying since the Garrett case?" A sense of dread filled me at how upset our boss would be. The relationship was bad enough, but right now we were also pretty deep into a web of deception.

"No, not tell him about the relationship. We tell him that we're in Richmond. What if we said that you had to come down here, and then you got into trouble and called me, and then I flew in from Minnesota?"

"But I just talked to him yesterday afternoon." Bobby nodded his head thoughtfully. I liked the idea in general, but we had some serious details to work out. Now that we were in trouble with the mob, I was all for bringing Ross up to speed. We just had to leave out that this all happened on the tail end of our mutual vacation.

I looked at my watch and saw that it was almost eight.

"How long have you been up?" I asked.

"Not long, I promise. We need to get cleaned up and get down to the courthouse. Frankie's going to be arraigned this morning, and they start the criminal cases from the previous night's arrests at nine o'clock."

A knock on the door startled us both. Bobby stood up and grabbed his gun from the nightstand and I did the same. We went to the door and checked the peephole.

"Hurry up and let me in!" Logan called from the other side of the door. Bobby glanced at me. I was wearing one of his t-shirts, so it fell to my knees. I wasn't crazy about letting Logan see me like this, but he sounded urgent, so I nodded and Bobby opened the door.

"Somebody's sitting on this hotel," he said when he came in, as though it wasn't any surprise that he had just shown up on our door step, five and a half hours from home.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. Logan had been looking at Bobby, but when he saw me, he did a double-take and then gave me a slow once-over. Twice. Bobby cleared his throat to get Logan's attention.

"Oh...um...yeah, well you guys are in over your heads here. I couldn't just sit around back home. I left after I found out about Mariella's connection to Masarro. Oh, and I picked up a paper at the front desk. You guys are in the clear for at least another day."

"Nothing on Paulie's murder?"

"There's a blurb on page two, but no photos and no mention of any out-of-state cops."

Bobby and I both breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least, we had a little more time to construct a cover story.

"Wait, so somebody's watching the hotel?" I asked, his initial statement suddenly sinking in.

"Oh yeah. Couple of goons trying to blend in are down in the lobby. And guess what else?" he asked with a grin. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a device. I took a closer look at it.

"GPS?"

"That's your rented mustang out back, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Well, you see, I used to be a detective…"

"Logan," I warned.

"This is a classy hotel. Not a lot of rental cars in the parking lot. Yours had Florida plates, and I know how much Eames likes to drive the muscle cars. It was a no-brainer."

"And you found that under it?" I asked.

"It wasn't hidden very well, but I guess they didn't figure you'd be looking for it."

"So that explains how they knew we were coming to Mariella's house. She probably called the cops as we approached her street, popped Paulie, and left," I deducted. "But wait, how did she get the GPS on there to begin with? You were the only one who knew where we were staying."

"She followed us from the precinct," Bobby said. He had been quiet during the conversation, but I knew that mind of his was working. "We took a cab, but she probably followed us here."

"And picked our car out? She wouldn't have known the details that Mike did."

"She's a looker," Logan offered.

"Mariella?"

"Yeah, and I mean _smokin_' hot. I noticed the clerk downstairs is a geeky-looking guy still wet behind the ears. He would've been easy pickin'."

"So she follows us here, bribes the clerk for the information on the car, and then plants a device on it. Why not just get our room number, kill us in our sleep?" I asked realistically. Bobby gave me a look, but it was a legitimate question.

"Maybe she was waiting to see if you guys would walk away. I'm sure the mob doesn't mind killing each other, but I think they try to avoid killing cops."

"Unless we keep sticking our nose further into things."

"I think we could probably go home now and be okay," Bobby said. "Mariella will bail out Frank. She'll either kill him or she won't, but either way she'll steal the car back to get their drugs, and we'll be off their radar."

"Except we'll be letting them drive, what - maybe fifty pounds or so of cocaine straight up to New York?" I argued.

"Right."

"No. No way."

"Alex," Bobby began.

"We can't let them do it, Bobby."

"It'll put you right back in the crosshairs."

"We're cops. It's what we do. We can't turn away from a drug run just because we're afraid of the consequences."

Bobby stared hard at me, but I didn't back down. We spoke miles to each other without making a sound. Logan backed away from us slowly.

"Um, if you guys need a little privacy to discuss this…"

"No, it's fine," Bobby said with a sigh. "She's right."

Logan whipped his head around to look at me with an astonished look on his face.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You won your argument without hardly saying a word."

"Because he knows I'm right. He was letting his overprotective nature win out over his natural sense of doing the honorable thing. He wouldn't be able to sleep at night any better than I would if we just let something like that go. Right, Bobby?"

"Right."

"So, courthouse?" I asked.

"Yep."

"We'll have to slip past the goons," I said.

"Piece of cake," Logan assured us.

"Okay, so let's get dressed and head for the courthouse. Frank's getting arraigned in an hour. Mariella will be there somewhere, and I'll be curious to see if she hugs him or shoots him."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I got out of the shower with two new revelations in my brain. One, I fabricated a plausible cover story for why Alex and I were both in Richmond. And two, Mariella was going to kill Frankie. I dressed quickly and went out into the room.

"The cops confiscated the guns," I began as though Alex were in my brain with me and knew what I had been thinking about. She didn't even blink.

"Right," she said with a nod. I looked around and realized Logan was missing, but I shrugged it off when Alex encouraged me to continue.

"Okay, so the car is not being held for any official reason. Frankie could get it out of impound as soon as he's out on bail because he's the registered owner," I told her.

"So why would Mariella need peanut butter to distract the dogs if they're going to go through proper channels to get the car?" Alex concluded with a smile. So, so quick, my Eames.

"Exactly. We need to nab Frankie before she does. We need to find out specifically where those drugs are headed. Otherwise, she'll kill him to tie up the loose end, wait for tonight to take the car, and then be to New York by sunrise."

"What if he doesn't know about the drugs? He's pretty low on the totem pole. He might be dumb enough to believe it was only guns."

"He probably is that dumb, but I'd bet they still had him going to the same place."

Alex nodded again and then reached for her holstered weapon and clipped it to her waistband.

"Where's Logan?" I asked. As if on cue, Logan came into the room.

"You guys ready?"

"Where'd you go?"

"I took care of those mopes downstairs," he said with a grin.

"Took care of them?"

"Relax. I didn't shoot anybody. Let's just say they won't be following us." Logan's phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Hey babe," he answered. Carolyn. I put on my shoes and finished getting ready while Logan talked to her.

"Okay, so she doesn't think Mariella's going to kill Frankie," he said when he hung up.

"Why not? We were just talking about that. Why go through the trouble with the peanut butter if he is alive to get the car himself?" Alex asked.

"Well, for starters, the Bureau is tapping Masarro's phones."

"God, they've been listening to that man for how many years now and they can't get any dirt on him?" Alex asked. Logan rolled his eyes at her but continued.

"Anyway, Carolyn called in a favor and was able to listen in on the past twenty-four hours. No one has filled in the old man about what's going on here."

"So he doesn't know about me and Alex?"

"Doesn't look that way. Carolyn said that she researched Mariella, pulled everything she could find. The girl practically grew up at her uncle's knee. She's the heir apparent to the family business, despite their usual reluctance to have a woman for a Don."

"So she would be comfortable taking matters into her own hands when she decided to have Paulie offed," Alex said.

"And maybe that's why she's not mentioning our involvement. Maybe it's an embarrassment to her when she's trying to earn respect. So how does Frankie figure into that?" I asked.

"Mariella's got a kid, up in New York. The old man's wife is looking after her."

"And?"

"And Frankie's the father. It's going to take more than losing a few guns for her to cap her baby's daddy. Especially when the real racket is drugs."

I thought about that for a few minutes, and I realized things still made sense. The plan for the dogs was just back-up in case Frankie didn't make bail, or in case the cops didn't want to let the car go. But the new information did make me rethink my plan of attack.

"I'd love to stand around here and chat about this all day, but I think we've got an arraignment to get to," Logan said. I nodded.

"Let's pack our bags first. We might not be back."

We cleared out the room and then took the stairs down to the lobby. Logan motioned for me and Alex to wait while he took a look around. A minute later, he opened the door.

"Come on. It's all clear."

We followed him out a side door of the lobby and into the parking lot. There was a commotion around front, but I didn't stop to look. I had a feeling I knew who was behind it. We climbed into Logan's SUV and as we pulled out of the parking lot, I heard a siren. A fire truck was approaching.

"What the hell did you do, Logan?" Alex asked. She was trying to hide an amused smile, but wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"It's _possible_ that there _may_ have been a small fire started in the front seat of the goon squad's car," he told us with a grin. I couldn't help myself. I laughed out loud.

"How did you know which one was their car?" I asked.

"Come on, man, really? Detective here, remember?"

* * *

All seriousness was back when we approached the courthouse. Logan had shown us the file photo of Mariella De Luca. He wasn't kidding when he said she was a looker.

Alex and I slid low in our seats so as not to be overly visible to anyone watching. We didn't know where she was, but hopefully thanks to Logan, she didn't know where we were either.

"Tell me again why we didn't just turn this over to the Richmond PD?" Logan asked as he searched for a parking spot that would have an unobstructed view of the entrance.

"Because then we couldn't be sure. This way we'll know they're caught," I reasoned. _And if Mariella keeps quiet like I think she will, then Alex will be out of danger. _

"Okay, so what's the plan here, boss?" Logan asked_._ "Paulie must have described you two to Mariella. Otherwise why bother with the goons in the lobby. So I'm guessing I'm the one headed in to watch the court proceedings, right?"

"That's right. Find out if the judge sets bail for Frankie, and then send me a text. We'll stay out here and watch for Mariella, but we're going to let her bail him out if she can."

"And then what?"

"Hopefully he'll get bail so that they'll go after the car and we'll just follow them. Right now, we don't have anything on them. We need to have them get the car before we do anything."

"And _then_ what?" Logan asked again. He was starting to frustrate me.

"And then we follow them."

"All the way to New York?"

"That's right. Then we'll find out the destination of these corridor drug runs. We'll be back in jurisdiction so we can arrest them ourselves. And it'll be a major bust, so we'll have some leverage with the brass if any of our questionable actions come to light."

"What if we're wrong about the drugs?" Alex asked, always the voice of practicality.

"We're not wrong," I replied.

"I sure as hell hope not," Logan said. Then he got out of the car and went into the courthouse.

Twenty minutes later, Mariella strolled down out of the parking garage, down the sidewalk and into the courthouse. She was even better looking in person. She was tall and model-thin with long dark hair that fell straight to her waist. She was dressed fashionably and expensively.

"She looks like she just stepped off a magazine cover," Alex said. "Gorgeous _and_ ruthless. That's a dangerous combination."

"She's confident. She doesn't know her thugs lost track of us. Or she thinks she scared us off."

"That's good. It'll be easier to follow her if she doesn't know we're watching."

I sent Logan a quick text to give him a heads-up, although I didn't think there was a snowball's chance in hell that he would miss her. No man with a pulse would. Forty-five minutes passed before I got a text back from Logan.

"Bail is set at a million dollars," I read aloud.

"I wonder how long it'll take her to come up with a hundred grand for bond," Alex mused.

"Usually takes at least a couple of hours," I replied. But thirty minutes later, Mariella came out with Frankie in tow. She didn't look very happy with him, but she let him hug and kiss her once they were on the sidewalk.

"How in the world did a guy like that get a girl like her?" Alex asked after witnessing their display of affection.

"I have no idea," I mumbled. I continued to watch as they made their way down the sidewalk and into the parking garage. I noticed Logan wasn't far behind. Alex slid into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Are you wondering how a guy like _you_ could get a girl like that?" she asked me, shaking my concentration. I took a moment to look at her, surprised by her sudden insecurity. But she certainly spent enough time building up my self-confidence, so I wasn't about to waste an opportunity to give her the words she needed as well. After all, it was the truth.

"Alex, I could spend hours listing off everything that I love about you and why I don't even look at other women in that way, but let's save that for later. Suffice it to say that I would never want her, or a woman like her."

"Why not?"

"She's not you," I replied simply with a shrug of my shoulders. I held her gaze for just another second before turning back to look at the garage. I saw Logan trotting down the ramp.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," she said, her face slightly flushed from my compliment. "I forgot I was Eames for a second there. We're not really in the place to be having that discussion, are we?"

She looked down to pull on her seatbelt as Logan hopped into the backseat, putting the brakes on our conversation.

"Black Cadi," Logan said, breathing heavily. "And good thing they decided to steam up the windows for a minute before coming out of the garage or I might not have made it."

"Only one exit, right?"

"Right."

The three of us kept our eyes on the garage and waited for the Cadillac to leave. I was turned in the passenger seat with one hand on the dash, and without looking down, I put my left hand on the seat, palm up. It only took a second before I felt Alex's hand clasp mine. She gave it a squeeze and I squeezed her back. We held for just another moment and then let go.

"There they go," Logan said from the backseat. We let them get a couple of blocks away and then Alex pulled out onto the street.

And the game was on.

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Alex POV**

* * *

It hadn't occurred to me that they wouldn't go for the car right away, but they didn't. We followed them through the streets of Richmond until they finally stopped at a restaurant for lunch. It was an Italian restaurant, one of those chain-types.

"I bet this is another one of those things Mariella doesn't tell old Vinny about," Logan said with a chuckle. "A real Italian girl going to eat fake Italian food…she should be ashamed of herself."

"We should get something while they're in there," Bobby said. "Who knows when we'll have another opportunity."

I looked around the near vicinity and saw a sign that said Sheetz. I had never heard of them before this trip, but I now knew it was a gas station and convenience store that had good coffee and a pretty decent selection of food. I pointed it out.

"Logan, you go in the restaurant and sit at the bar. We'll take the truck and fill it up with gas and get some supplies for a road trip," Bobby suggested.

"Am I going to be doing any driving any time soon?" he asked as he climbed out.

"Over my dead body," I replied.

"Good, then I'll have a beer. Text me when you're done."

Logan slammed the door closed and went into the restaurant. I pulled the car around to the gas station.

"I'll fill it up. You go on in and I'll meet you there in a minute," he told me.

"Such a manly man," I joked. "Filling up the gas tank for his woman."

"Come here."

"What?" I asked, even as I walked around to his side of the SUV. When I reached him, he hugged me.

"I'm sorry I had to give you the short answer earlier," he said, pausing for a moment to give me a kiss. "But if you only knew how much I love you, you would never worry for one second about me looking at anyone else."

"I do know," I told him. I was a little embarrassed for letting my lack of self-confidence get the better of me.

"You sure? Because I would love to show you," he whispered, continually raining kisses along my neck and jaw line.

"We'll have to wait until we can get rid of Logan," I teased.

"We've figured out ways around Logan before," he reminded me. Images of Mike's coat closet came to mind and caused me to go from mildly aroused to hot and bothered in a matter of seconds.

"Bobby," I said finally, forcing myself to put a stop to things.

"Hmm?"

"Put the gas in the car." I moved away from him just a little, but waited while he pushed my hair behind my ear. "We're kind of in the middle of a covert operation here."

"Later," he promised. His smoldering eyes and husky tone made me nearly ready to jump him right there at the gas pumps. But I got a handle on my hormones and just smiled back at him and returned the promise.

Twenty minutes later, we had caffeine and provisions in the car and the needle was on F. We parked close enough to the restaurant where we could see the entrance, but not too close to be noticed. Bobby sent Logan a text.

Logan replied: _I'll text you when they pay the check. Right now these two are going at it right there in the booth. My bet is that the next stop is a motel. _

"Are you kidding me?" I asked when Bobby read the text aloud. "He was only in jail one night!"

"We're not really ones to judge here, are we?" Bobby asked with a grin. It was really strange to see that he was so relaxed and happy. We still had our work cut out for us, but I guess he was seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.

"I think we're going to be okay, Eames," he said, reading my mind.

"We have to track this car all the way to New York. That's not going to be easy. And then we're going to interrupt a bunch of gangsters making a drug buy. Tell me again why you're so happy?"

"The heat is off of you. Off of us. Twenty-four hours ago, I was scared to death that you were a marked woman. But now, knowing what we know, I think it's going to work out okay."

"We still need to tell Ross. Have you worked out a cover?"

"Are you sure we need to tell him?" Bobby asked, sounding an awful lot like a little boy.

"Assuming everything goes as planned, we still shouldn't make that bust without back-up. Roughly fifty pounds of coke is huge. We need to tell the captain that we're coming. He'll probably call Narcotics to get them involved, too." Bobby nodded.

"You're right. And yes, I think I've got a story. I need to call my aunt first."

I didn't ask. If Bobby wanted to talk to her then that was fine with me. I trusted him. I got out of the truck and stretched my legs while he made the call. After a few minutes, I got back in.

"How is she?" I asked.

"She's great," he said with a smile. "Healthy as a horse. But since I told Ross that she had health issues, I thought we should go with that, and if I was going to make my aunt have serious kidney trouble, I felt that I should let her know first," he paused for a minute and then smiled. "She gave me her blessing. She seemed to get a kick out of providing us with a smoke screen."

"So we're saying she has a kidney disease? How does that get us to Virginia?"

"VCU is right here in Richmond and it has a highly regarded transplant department."

"Okay, so we're going to say you brought your aunt to VCU to get checked out," I concluded, catching on quickly. "But why did I come down?"

"I asked you to because the two of us came alone, and I thought she would be more comfortable with another woman around."

"Okay. That's good. I like it. But why did I call Ross yesterday to tell him that I was still working on my apartment?"

"You were. But I called right after you hung up with him. And you didn't think you needed to bother him on a Sunday to explain things considering he'd already approved the extra time. You left immediately after I called."

"Oh, so you think I would just drop everything and come to your aid?" I asked teasingly. He tilted his head down and looked up at me through thick lashes. The beginnings of a smile played at his lips.

"I hope so," he said somewhat shyly. I couldn't help myself. I knew we were waiting for Mariella and Frankie, and I knew we had serious business ahead of us, but right now we were in a bubble just waiting for things to happen. A little bit of Bobby-and-Alex time wouldn't kill us.

"Absolutely," I said before reaching across the seat to kiss him. "Without a doubt, as quickly as possible…" I kissed him again, shoving my fingers into his hair and pulling him even closer. "Every single time. I will drop everything any time you need me."

My words must have flipped some kind of switch in Bobby because the next thing I knew, I was pulled completely across the console and was settled firmly on his lap. His lips crashed hungrily onto mine.

"Logan," I whispered in a half-hearted protest.

"He'll text," was his reply. He eagerly worked his fingers down into the waistband of my jeans, gripping my ass and pulling my hips tighter against him. Our pace was getting frantic and his hands and lips were everywhere and the windows were fogging over and I was thinking _this is crazy_, but at the same time my brain was screaming _don't stop_…

And then Bobby's phone beeped, signaling a text.

"Shit," we groaned simultaneously. I took a deep breath and forced myself back to my side of the car. Bobby pulled out his phone while I reminded myself that I needed to be Eames right now.

"He said start the car. They paid the check, and he's coming out now."

I looked through the hazy windshield and saw Logan walking towards us. _That was good timing. What if he hadn't texted us? _I glanced at Bobby and I could tell he was thinking the same thing, but he just gave me a grin as he adjusted himself in the seat. I smirked a little and turned on the defroster.

"Here they come," he said as he climbed in. He buckled his seat belt and then looked around.

"What the hell happened in here?" Logan asked in reference to the windows. And then he looked at me, taking in my disheveled hair and swollen lips. "There must be something in the damn water around here. Those two inside, you two outside…sheesh."

"Shut up, Mike," I said good-naturedly.

Mariella and Frankie came out of the restaurant five minutes later. We watched as they got into the Cadillac and then we followed them back out onto the highway.

"They're not going for the car," Bobby said when they took an exit. "The impound lot is at the next exit."

"Maybe they're going to wait until the end of the day. They probably didn't get much sleep last night, and they may prefer to drive under the cover of darkness," I suggested.

"Looks like you're right," Logan said, pointing at the car as it turned into the parking lot of a Motel 6. The couple went into the office and came back out a few minutes later. The room doors were exterior, so we were able to easily observe them as they went down the sidewalk and disappeared into room 112.

"What's the plan now?"

"Let's get a room. We can take shifts watching the room so that each of us can get a little sleep," Bobby said.

"I'm good. You two sleep," Logan offered.

"Mike, you drove down from New York in the middle of the night. You didn't get any sleep at all."

"Hey, I live for this stuff," he said convincingly. "I'm good for awhile yet. And you won't let me drive anyway, so once we get on the road, I can sleep in the car."

I looked at Bobby and he shrugged.

"Just don't take your clothes off," Logan added when I started to get out of the car. "When I call you, we'll be in a hurry. No time for rifling through the bedsheets looking for underwear."

A smartass reply escaped me, so as a childish last resort, I flipped him off before heading into the office.

I came out with a room key and Bobby met me on the sidewalk.

"You don't think they're just in there for a quickie, do you?" I asked him as I handed him the key. It was one of those good old-fashioned real motel keys with the room number printed on the key chain.

"No. It's smart to wait until dark. The impound closes at seven and it's close to one now. I'm betting we've got about five hours before they go anywhere. And if we're wrong, Mike will get us."

"I can't believe he came all the way down here."

"He's a good guy," Bobby said, almost sounding surprised.

"There are a few of you out there," I reminded him.

We went into the room and decided to bite the bullet and call Ross. But first, I wanted to call Rodgers. If we were using a medical excuse, surely Ross would verify the story with his doctor wife.

"Liz, it's Alex," I said when she answered the line. Her voice sounded weary, but she perked up a little when I gave her my name.

"Detective! Good to hear from you. How are the renovations going?" I hesitated. Not long, but she's pretty sharp.

"You're not doing renovations are you?" she asked.

"I didn't say that," I denied, not wanting to put her in the position of having direct knowledge of our lie.

"I knew it!" she insisted victoriously despite my lack of confirmation.

"Liz, I just have a question for you. A completely random hypothetical medical question."

"Okay," she said, back in doctor mode.

"Is VCU a well-renowned facility for kidney disease?" Rodgers paused for quite a while. I knew she wanted to ask questions, but she also knew not to.

"It's one of the best in the country," she confirmed.

"So it would make sense that someone would travel a ways from home just to go there," I clarified.

"You mean, like from Minnesota?" I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Yes."

"Absolutely. Of course, another good one is the Mayo Clinic which is right there in Minnesota."

"Oh."

"But, it makes a lot of sense to get a second opinion in these matters. And VCU would definitely be a logical choice," she concluded.

"Okay. Thank you."

"I can't ask?"

"It's probably not a good idea."

"Are you in trouble? Is Bobby?"

"We're fine."

"But you are _together_."

"Liz…"

"I know, no questions. I got it."

"Thanks, really."

"Any time, Detective. I think I owe you one or two at least."

I hung up with Liz and looked at Bobby. He was already stretched out on top of the bed with his eyes closed but I knew he had listened to every word.

"She's a good one to have on our side," he commented. I climbed onto the bed next to him, deciding to relax for just a minute before making the call. But then Bobby's phone rang. We both sprang up quickly, and Bobby reached for the phone. He glanced at the display as he began cramming his size thirteens back into his tennis shoes. He froze.

"It's not Logan?" I asked when he stopped.

"It's Ross."

This was not going to be good. We were going to call him anyway, but if he was calling us, then something was up.

"Goren," Bobby answered. He raised his fingers to his lips and pushed the speaker button.

"Detective," Ross said sharply. "Do you want to explain to me why the Richmond Police just called me to say that they found your badge in their evidence lock-up?"

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I told Ross the whole story. Well, the whole fabricated story. The bad thing was that there were a few details that I hadn't considered and Ross was quick to pounce on them. I started freelancing and that tends to get me into trouble.

"Logan's down there, too?" he asked. I was so focused on making the point that Alex and I were resting up in _separate_ hotel rooms that I let it slip that Logan was keeping an eye on our Mafiosos.

"Uh, yeah Captain. He came down."

"Why?" I looked at Alex and could tell she was panicking. We hadn't prepared ourselves for questions about Logan.

"He came down with Eames," I said quickly.

"What?" Alex mouthed it at the same time Ross said it.

"Uh…because she…um…"

"I didn't feel comfortable driving so far by myself," Alex interjected. That had to be painful for her to say. Alex loved to drive and there's no way in the world she would ask for an escort to go with her anywhere.

"Detective Eames, I didn't realize you were in the room."

"Yes sir. Goren came and knocked on my door when he saw that it was you on the phone."

There was a long pause.

"Okay, so you called Logan," Ross repeated. "Does Barek know about this?"

"Of course, Captain. It's not like that. He's a friend to me and to Bobby and I thought it would be helpful to have him with us." We were drowning. We needed to move on. Fortunately, Ross did it for us.

"Helpful because he is knowledgeable about all things medical?" Ross asked sarcastically. I was at a loss.

"Um, no sir. Um..."

"Nevermind. So Goren, where is your aunt now that you three are chasing down drug runners?" Ross asked me in a slightly disbelieving voice. _Hmm…I hadn't thought about that one either. _"And doesn't she have any other family? She's never even met Eames before, has she?"

"No sir, but um...no one could get away...um away from work, but then I…um…I called her daughter…um…you know, my cousin, and um…she convinced her boss to...um...give her some time off, so um..she's going to fly in this afternoon. My aunt is um...she is checked in at...um...at VCU right now." I was starting to ramble and stutter - _not_ a good combination.

"So all of this other mess happened as soon as Eames and Logan got down there?"

"Yes sir. It was past dinner time, and she had just driven almost six hours to get here, so I took her to get something to eat. They were doing…um…tests on my aunt, so it was a good chance for me to step away for a little bit."

"And where was Logan?"

"He was tired so he stayed at the hotel."

"Uh huh. So you two are out to dinner. And then the place got robbed. By mobsters."

"Yes sir."

"And you got arrested."

"Not officially."

"Right."

"And why didn't you call me as soon as Eames got you out of jail?"

"Well, sir, it was the middle of the night, and there was really nothing you could do at that point."

I tried not to breathe while I waited to hear what the captain's response would be. On one hand, he could be an ass about it. He could pull my financials and it would all be there in black and white: charges in Mexico, hotels, the rental car. On the other hand, I wasn't sure it would occur to him to be quite so invasive over something like this. I mean, I was on vacation. It wasn't really his business where I chose to go.

"So fill me in on the drug runners," he said after an interminable amount of time. I met Alex's gaze and we exchanged smiles. _So far so good_.

Ten grueling minutes later, I hung up the phone.

"That went better than I hoped," I admitted. "I think I was actually a little more afraid of Ross than I am of the mafia." Alex chuckled, but she nodded in agreement.

"He wasn't happy that we waited so long to tell him what was going on, but I think it's going to be okay."

"He'll check out our story with Rodgers. She'll back it up as plausible."

"Yeah, that was a good idea to call her ahead of time."

"So Logan came down here with me because I was _afraid_ to make the trip alone? Are you kidding me?" Alex asked.

"I panicked," I admitted. "I couldn't think of any reason that wasn't going to get us in trouble. Logan had to be here _before_ everything went to hell or it was going to look even worse."

"I know," she agreed, letting me off the hook. "I don't know why we didn't work on the Logan angle before hand."

"It's possible we got a little distracted," I told her pointedly.

"_We_ got distracted?" she questioned with a quirk of her eyebrows. "I distinctly remember being dragged across the console of the SUV…"

"And I remember having a tongue in my ear and a hand down my pants. Are we going to argue here about who distracted who?" I teased back. She blushed at my accurate description.

"Okay, yeah I guess we're both at fault. We should've been a little more disciplined when we were discussing our story."

"That's okay," I said, pulling her into a hug. "Our rendezvous in the truck was worth having to do a little tap dancing with Ross, don't you think?"

My phone rang before she could answer and it sent my heart pounding again. It had to be Logan. I grabbed it up.

"Goren."

"Get your ass in gear, Goren. They're walking to their car."

* * *

"What are we going to do if they take both cars?" Logan asked as we sat down the road from the impound lot. Alex and I had made it to the SUV in time to see the Cadi pulling out of the parking lot and then we had followed them to the impound. I wasn't sure why they only stayed at the motel for such a short amount of time. Maybe they were just there for a quickie after all.

"We follow the drugs," I said. "If they take both cars, we'll have to call Richmond PD and have them stop the Cadi."

"They could switch the coke out," he suggested.

"No," Alex said. "They've got a good hiding spot in the other car. They won't take it out until they get where they're going." I nodded, glad that she was thinking the same thing I was.

After thirty minutes, both cars came out of the impound. An old white Impala followed by the new black Cadillac.

"Mariella's driving the drugs. She doesn't trust Frankie with them," I commented.

"This works out great. Since Frankie's the one in the Cadi, if they split up we can notify Richmond PD that he's fleeing the jurisdiction and then we can still follow Mariella and the coke."

"Where the hell are they going now?" Logan asked rhetorically as the cars turned towards downtown Richmond. "I thought they'd be heading to I-95."

"I don't know," I said quietly as I thought it over. We trailed them for two more miles before it hit me. We were headed for the Jefferson Hotel.

"They're going back for the goons."

"Oh, great. I forgot about them," Logan said.

"I'm sure they're in a great mood after getting their car torched," Alex commented.

The two cars pulled into the parking lot of the Jefferson while Alex found a spot in an adjacent lot. We had a decent view, and we watched as Mariella appeared to verbally abuse both men. They stood quietly and took the dressing-down, and when she was finished, the two of them climbed into the Cadillac. Frankie and Mariella got into the Impala.

"Looks like she was a little pissed at her boys for losing you two," Logan said.

"Or for ruining their car. Our rental is still there. They might think we haven't left yet," I countered.

We shadowed the two cars as they made their way to I-95. It appeared that the whole foursome was going to New York.

"This makes it nice and neat. Now all we have to do is stay undetected for the next 300 miles," Alex said as she pulled onto the interstate.

I sent Ross a text to give him an update. I wanted to keep him in the loop - or at least the loop that he _knew_ about - but I didn't want to actually talk to him because I was afraid he would have more questions now that he'd had time to think everything over.

The trip went along smoothly until we got just north of Baltimore.

"They're getting off," Alex said, her voice breaking through the silence in the SUV. Logan had fallen asleep around Quantico, and I was lost in my own head. I looked out and saw the Impala, followed closely by the Cadillac, with their turning signals on.

"Where are we at exactly? What's near here?" I asked, trying to re-orient myself with my surroundings.

"Ten miles north of Baltimore," Alex told me. "Gunpowder Falls State Park is near here and not much else."

"Something doesn't feel right about this," I said quietly. "Why would they stop here? We just passed through two large cities with plenty choices for food or gas or bathrooms."

"Do you think they're on to us?"

"I don't know. Hang back a little further." Daylight was fading and it was going to be harder to keep track of them once we were down to just headlights, but so far we could still keep a visual on them even at a modest distance.

Logan's phone rang, jarring him out of his slumber. He sat up quickly and looked around for a minute.

"It's your phone," I told him, empathizing with the disoriented feeling of being abruptly awakened. Logan looked down at his jacket and finally pulled out the offending equipment.

"Hey babe," he answered. That was his standard greeting for Carolyn. I tuned him out.

"They're stopping," Alex said. "It looks like a no-tell motel."

"Drive past it. We'll find some place to turn around and come back once they're inside." She did as I instructed and I turned around in the seat so that I could keep an eye on them as long as possible. I saw them get out of their vehicles before we went out of view.

"Hey guys," Logan chimed from the backseat. He had finished his call.

"What?"

"We might have a little problem here."

"Don't make us guess, Logan."

"Carolyn has been listening to older tapes of the Masarro wire taps. She thinks Mariella's going to ice Frankie."

"That would explain the isolated motel," Alex said. "What now? We can't just sit back and let it happen."

"If we stop her from killing him, then all we'll get is the blow in the car. We'll lose the edge in busting up the distribution racket," Logan countered.

They both had good points. Frankie was a lowlife gangster who probably deserved whatever he had coming to him. But that wasn't our decision to make. We needed to figure out a way to do both – stop the murder and follow the drugs.

"Why is she going to kill him? If it's old tapes then it doesn't have anything to do with what happened last night," Alex reasoned. By this time, she had pulled into a fruit stand parking lot. It was closed, so we were just sitting with the engine idling.

"The old man called Frankie out on the carpet two weeks ago. He had caught him with another woman. Masarro told Mariella about it three days ago. I'm guessing she's not the type to take kindly to something like that."

"Did the goons see you at the hotel?" I asked Logan suddenly.

"What? No, I don't think so. Why?"

"They don't know you. You're the unknown player here. We might need to split up." I caught Alex's eye and waited patiently while she read my mind.

"Logan's going to stop the murder, we're going to stay on track with the drugs," Alex clarified. I nodded, happy that she was right along with me. She watched me with a big grin on her face. _This_ was why we couldn't risk Ross knowing about our relationship. We just work too damn good together to ruin it.

"If we can do this right, we can still all stay together. But if not, we need to make sure that Logan's the only one seen. We have to let Mariella believe that she's safe to go on to her drug drop."

"Exactly what is it that I'm going to do?" he asked cautiously.

"You're going to kidnap Frankie Moretti."

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Logan** **POV**

* * *

My first reaction to Goren's plan was that he had finally gone off the deep end. But then I saw Eames nodding her head and grinning. And Eames is a lot of things, but crazy isn't one of them. And if I'm honest with myself, I know Goren isn't crazy either.

"You want me to kidnap Frankie," I repeated, giving myself time to let the idea settle. "Exactly how are we going to go about that?"

"I haven't worked that out yet," Goren admitted. "But if we can get him away from the others, then it'll solve all of our problems."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, he won't be dead, for starters." Eames, ever the pragmatist.

"They'll think he walked away, maybe got wind of the impending hit," she continued.

"Right," Goren agreed quickly. "Which means that they should stay on track with their plan to deliver the drugs."

"They weren't planning on him going the distance with them anyway," Eames added.

These two tag-teamed better than professional wrestlers. I was feeling severely out-matched and I was missing Carolyn some kind of bad.

"So how am I supposed to get Frankie off by himself? And what am I going to do with him when I do?"

"Put handcuffs on him and get him in the back of the SUV," Eames told me, with a tone that told me I should've known the answer to that one.

"I'm not a cop anymore. I don't carry handcuffs around with me."

"I've got some in my bag. I'll give them to you after we check into the motel."

"You take handcuffs with you on vacation?" I asked, although I was a little afraid of the answer. Her answering smirk coupled with Goren's blush had me dying to get out of the car. _Too much information_.

Because I mean, come on. I had an image of Eames in my head. She was a no-nonsense good girl. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized that I didn't know a damn thing about her. Already I'd busted her and the big guy making out in my kitchen, fogging up the windows in the car, and now I learned she packed handcuffs. Not to mention that I was sure some kind of monkey business had gone on in my coat closet that night they stayed over…

"We're just going to drive the rest of the way to New York with a kidnapped Frankie in the back?"

"It's not really kidnapping," Goren argued. "Let's call it protective custody."

"And besides, it's not that much further. It's better than the alternative," Eames said.

"Okay. Let's do this," I agreed. It wasn't like I had a better plan. I had learned that while Goren wasn't necessarily the most well-liked detective, he was without a doubt the smartest, so if he thought this was the way to go, then who was I to argue?

Eames drove my SUV on up to the motel and we parked around back. The foursome had already gone into rooms, although we hadn't been able to see which ones. That would take a little detective work. We walked around the building to the registration office and saw that the clerk was a thirty-something man that was likely still living in his mom's basement.

"Looks like this one's on you," I told Eames. She gave me her patented smartass smile and went into the office. I watched as she leaned across the counter and flirted relentlessly with the poor schmuck, but I noticed that Goren didn't watch. _Jealous type, huh?_ I couldn't resist a little picking.

"Doesn't that bother you?" I asked in a low conspiratorial tone. "Her cozying up to losers like that?"

"It's part of the job sometimes."

"That's not what I asked."

"What do you think? Did you ever like it when Barek used her feminine wiles to get information?"

"I wasn't dating Carolyn when we were partners."

"That's not what I asked," he fired back, mimicking my earlier question. _See what I mean_? Smart bastard. He must've known I had the hots for Carolyn even back then.

"Hell yeah, it bothered me," I admitted. Goren gave me an Eames-like smirk and I dropped the subject.

Three minutes later, Eames came back out with a victorious grin on her face.

"Rooms 312 and 314. And I checked us in to Room 300. It's right next to the stairwell and the elevator's broken, so they'll have to pass us coming and going."

Did I say Goren was the smartest detective I know? Eames gives him a run for his money, that's for sure. Maybe that's why they get along so well.

The three of us went up the stairs and into the motel room. I was a little surprised that Eames had only gotten one room, but I guess she figured there wouldn't be much sleeping going on. We had no way of knowing how long those mopes were going to hang around. Not to mention I had a little felony kidnapping to take care of.

"We need to get them out of the room," Goren said once we were in the room. Eames sat on one bed, I sat on the edge of the dresser, and Goren paced.

"We should have a little time," Goren continued. "If this was going to be a quick stop they wouldn't have bothered with two rooms, but…"

"We still need to do it as soon as possible," Eames added.

"Right," Goren said. "Alex, you made nice with the clerk. Why don't you see if he'll do you a favor?"

"Like that time that we…"

"Yeah, I thought that if you…"

"Great idea," she told him, getting up from the bed.

"Huh? What's a great idea? He didn't _say_ anything."

"I'm going to get the clerk to call up to Mariella's room and tell her that someone was messing around her car," Eames said as though I was a little slow for not having caught on already.

"He didn't say that," I argued. And then I gave up. I had to just go with the flow with these two or it was going to be a long trip.

"Exactly," Goren said in response to Eames, as though I hadn't said a word. "Hopefully, she'll send Frankie to check it out. But even if she goes herself, he'll be alone in the room. Worse case, they both go, or they send the goons, and then we'll have to think of something else."

"So how do I know whether to be in the room or out by the car?"

"You won't. We'll just wait and see. If he leaves, you can follow him. If she does, then you go to the room. If it works, once Mariella realizes he's missing, she'll think that Frankie set up the call just to get away from her."

"She will? What if she asks the clerk?"

"He'll say that it was a man who asked him to call the room," Eames told me confidently. And then she brushed her hair back from her face, walked over to her the little duffle bag she had brought in with her and pulled out the set of handcuffs. She tossed them to me and I set them down next to me on the dresser.

"How long before I have him make the call?" she asked Goren.

"Twenty minutes. That'll give you plenty of time to get back here first. Are you ready?" Goren asked, turning to me.

"Oh yeah, sure. I do this kind of thing all the time," I joked. But then I had a thought. "No, actually I need to do something first."

I got up and headed for the door.

"Logan, I don't think it's a good idea for you to leave right now."

"Just give me a minute. I'll be right back," I insisted. I slipped out the door and quietly went down the stairs. I passed unnoticed by the clerk in the front office and I went out into the parking lot.

I wanted to have a back-up plan in place in case this thing went to hell. I moved through the parking lot and got to the Impala. I looked around, but didn't see anyone. I was afraid they might have some kind of alarm on the car, especially considering the pile of nose candy hidden somewhere inside.

I looked around and picked up a decent-sized stick and then looked around again.

"What are you doing here, Mikey?" I mumbled to myself.

But I knew the answer. I was helping out a friend. Two friends. Goren didn't have many people in his life, but he sure knew how to take care of the ones he did have. He was loyal and had this sense of nobility that made me constantly want to stand up and do the right thing. And Eames…once her trust was earned, she was like a pit bull. She would go the distance no matter what the cost. Plus, she had a sharp wit that cracked me up. The two of them may be the golden boys when it came to solve-rate, but they were the whipping boys with the brass. And I've always had a weakness when it came to pulling for the underdog.

With an internal shrug, I took a chance and threw a stick at the Impala while hiding behind a pick-up truck three spots over. It thudded off the rear quarter panel, but no accompanying siren. Secure in the knowledge that it was alarm-free, I approached the car and picked the lock. Hey, what can I say? I wasn't always a cop. As an afterthought, I stepped away from the car and placed a quick call to Carolyn. When finished, I reached in the car and jammed my cell underneath the backseat. Satisfied that it was well hidden, I hauled ass back to the room. Goren and Eames might have cornered the market on genius, but street smarts was synonymous with Mike Logan. We all have our strengths.

Once back in the room, Eames took off to sweet-talk the clerk again. Goren didn't ask me where I'd gone. I liked that. It meant he trusted me, too.

I picked up Eames' handcuffs off the dresser and checked my weapon.

"So we're just going to leave him in the car all night?"

"We have to. We don't know how long they'll stay and we can't risk him being in the hotel room with us." _Good point_. I nodded. We had parked far enough away from the others to not have to worry about being seen.

"We'll take turns," he assured me. "Call me when you have him and I'll come down in an hour to relieve you."

"Um…okay, but I'll need your phone." He quirked an eyebrow at me and tilted his head. His eyes seemed to look right through me. _Jeez, how did any suspect stand up against this guy? _

"Okay," he said when I remained silent. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me without another word.

We heard the click of the lock on the door and we tensed for a moment, but then Eames came into the room.

"Worked like a charm," she told us. "Somebody should be going to check out the car in about fifteen minutes."

I stood and watched out the peephole. It was boring surveillance work, although at least we knew it would be short lived.

"Hey, you guys know that there's no way Ross bought that whole bullshit story, right?" I said after twelve minutes. The silence didn't seem to bother those two, but it had been killing me.

"What?" Eames asked.

"You might have been okay with the whole sick-aunt thing, but you said I had to come with you?" I said to Eames. "That was the alibi kiss of death right there."

"He's right," Goren said. "We're going to have to face the music when we get back."

And then I felt instantly horrible for bringing it up. The sadness in the big guy's voice and the resignation in Eames' eyes…they both knew they were living on borrowed time with this whole keeping-the-relationship-secret thing, but I guess they'd hoped it would last a little longer than a few weeks. And really, they'd had the worst kind of luck.

"Maybe he won't push it," I suggested, although I didn't believe it for a second.

"Ross? Yeah, right. Because he's always so lenient with the rules," Eames countered.

"He did mention something about don't ask, don't tell," Goren mumbled.

"He did? When?" Eames asked. Goren started telling her about some conversation that he and Ross had when they were in my living room. I was about to throw in my two cents again when I saw movement.

"Hey," I whispered. They instantly stopped talking.

"Frankie's on the move."

It was the best-case scenario. Frankie was going to check out the car. That made it easy on me. Follow him, neutralize him, and cuff him. Piece of cake. I let him get into the stairwell and then I slipped out of the room. On my way down the stairs, I made up my mind that I was going to interfere in this whole Ross situation. It would be a crime to split those two up just because of some stupid rule.

I went out into the parking lot and saw that Frankie was circling the vehicle. He had his back to me, so I moved quickly and rammed him into the car, keeping my weight pressed up against him. I didn't pull my gun. I had the size advantage on him, and I wanted to avoid using it if at all possible.

"How ya doin', Frankie?" I asked him as I kept my forearm against the back of his neck. He made a move for his jacket.

"Uh uh," I said sharply, grabbing his hand up and slamming it on the roof of the car. "You don't want to pull your gun. Then we'd have to get into a whole size thing to see whose is bigger. And trust me, mine's bigger."

I used my body to leverage him into a submissive position and then I pulled his gun from his jacket and stuck it in the back waistband of my jeans. Then I grabbed the handcuffs from my pocket and wrenched his arms behind his back before locking the cuffs tightly around his wrists.

"You made that too easy," I told him.

"You're a dead man," he said back. I chuckled.

"I don't think so. You were the dead man, Frankie. I just saved your life." I grabbed him by his elbow and jerked him around the far side of the motel, moving quickly in case any of the goons decided to follow up.

"You don't know who you're dealing with," he warned.

"I know you got busted banging the coat check girl at the 205 Club. Mariella knows that, too." That shut him up. I threw him into the backseat and then adjusted the handcuffs so that the chain of the cuffs went through the door handle. I pulled out Goren's phone and flipped it open to look for Eames' number. Speed dial number one – _big surprise_.

"Eames," she answered.

"Hey Bonnie. Tell Clyde I've snatched the mark."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Alex POV**

* * *

I had to admit that I was surprised the plan worked as well as it did. Ten minutes after Logan left the room, he had Frankie cuffed and in the back of the SUV. Five minutes after that, there was activity in the hall.

"Goon squad on the move," I reported to Bobby.

"Mariella must have sent them to check on Frankie."

"Twenty bucks says they leave the motel within the next fifteen minutes," I challenged. Once they realized Frankie was gone, they were going to get antsy.

"I'm not taking that bet," Bobby replied with a grin. "I've learned never to bet against you."

"Ha! You're one to talk," I responded. I kept my face up against the door, my eye focused through the peephole.

"They won't kick us out of the department," Bobby said quietly, correctly guessing that the prospect of getting busted was weighing heavily on my mind. "They'll assign us new partners, but neither of us should have to leave Major Case."

"I don't want a new partner," I said. "It took me seven years to break you in." I turned my head around to give him a quick smile, just to make sure he knew I was teasing, and then returned to my vigil.

"We could always tell Moran we saw that picture…"

"I am not going to blackmail the chief of D's." Although, I had to admit I was tempted. What could it hurt? He already hated us. Having a little leverage over him would be a nice change.

"I know. I wasn't serious," Bobby said quietly.

"I don't know. I'm thinking maybe you're right. He certainly doesn't waste any time trying to throw us under the bus at every opportunity."

"We're better than that," Bobby reminded me. And people always think I'm the voice of reason. "I have no problem begging Ross to overlook it, but if he goes to Moran, we'll just have to accept the consequences."

I thought about that for a little bit and then I saw the thugs come back.

"It's probably on. They're going to Mariella's room."

"Keep watching," Bobby said as he slung my duffle over his shoulder. "I'll call Logan and let him know."

Bobby made a quick call to Logan and I stayed with my eyeball glued to the peephole. Finally, the two goons and Mariella came down the hall. Mariella looked pissed.

"There they go," I whispered as the passed the door. They went into the stairwell and we waited a full minute before slipping out of the room.

We stealthily made our way out to the parking lot. It was full-on dark by now, but there were a few floodlights illuminating the area. We went to the front lot so that we could make sure they were getting in their cars. Logan had started the SUV and was waiting for us in the back lot. Bobby and I stood in the shadows along the edge of the building.

My heart sank when I saw Mariella climb into the Impala while the other two just stood in the parking lot.

"What are they doing?" I asked Bobby.

"I don't know," he said thoughtfully. I could tell he was working hard on an explanation. "Maybe they're afraid Frankie's going to follow them."

"Why would he have to follow? He probably knew where they were going."

"Maybe not. Maybe he doesn't even know about the drugs. He might think they were all just headed back home."

One goon lit a cigarette while the other leaned against the Cadillac. They were deep in conversation. Mariella headed for the exit.

"Shit. If we follow now, they're going to see us," I said with frustration. We'd come too far to lose track of those drugs now. I pulled out my phone and called Logan.

"Slight hang-up," I told him when he answered. I explained the situation.

"Be patient," he told me. "They won't let her get too far ahead. They probably got spooked with Frankie splitting on them, so they're just being extra careful."

"But what if we lose her?"

"We won't," he replied confidently before disconnecting. _How could he be so sure?_

"Logan's up to something," I said after I put my phone back in my pocket.

"I think he put his cell in the car."

"What?"

"I think he hid his cell phone in the Impala. When he left the room earlier, he came back without his phone."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was pretty damn smart," I said. We could have Carolyn look up his phone's GPS and track him all the way to New York. "Damn, why didn't we just do that to being with?"

"Well, it's not perfect. A lot could go wrong with that plan. The battery could die, or the phone could be detected. But it is a great back-up."

The one guy tossed down his cigarette and then the two of them looked around the parking lot one last time before climbing into the Cadi. They started it up and pulled out onto the road.

"Let's go," Bobby said. We trotted around to the back of the building where Logan was waiting. I eyeballed Frankie in the back, and then motioned for Logan to get out of the driver's seat.

"What is it with you and driving? A control thing?" he grumbled as he climbed into the backseat.

"And here I was going to kiss you for being so damn smart," I teased as I got behind the wheel.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Logan replied, although I noticed that he blushed slightly. Whether it was because of my compliment or my suggestion of giving him a kiss, I'm not sure, but I thought it was an interesting character trait of which I had been previously unaware.

"You can play dumb all you want to, but while you're doing that, call Carolyn. Let's get this show on the road."

"I should've known you two were behind this," Frankie commented in the midst of our banter.

"Shut the hell up, Frankie, or I'll tie you to the roof for the ride back home," Logan threatened as he punched Barek's number into Bobby's cell.

We were back in business. Carolyn tracked my and Logan's cells so that she could keep tabs on both of us on her screen. That way we were able to stay a mile behind Mariella rather than be suspicious and follow right up on her tail. It was hard trailing a car at night, so this actually turned out to be the best solution as long as Logan's battery held up.

We drove on in silence. Surprisingly, Frankie kept quiet and we were all able to ignore him. I didn't know whether he believed us that he was on Mariella's hit list, but I didn't care. Once this drug deal was taken care of, we could let Virginia have him back so that they could finish their prosecution of him for the incident at the diner. And now they could add fleeing the jurisdiction to their list of charges, so he would get to sit in jail while he was on trial.

One hundred and fifty miles later, we finally approached the skyline of New York.

"Let's tighten it up, Alex. I don't want to be too far away now, and the traffic is heavy enough," Bobby said. I punched the gas and maneuvered through the other cars until, according to Carolyn, we were within a tenth of a mile. I thought I could pick out the Impala's tail lights, but I wasn't sure.

I gave Bobby my phone and he called the captain. He didn't put it on speaker, likely because he didn't want Frankie listening in, so I had to be happy with just Bobby's side of the conversation:

"We're passing the exit for Newark…I got it. We did have to make one slight alteration though. We had to take Frankie Moretti into custody…Barek found evidence that he was marked."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Frankie yelled from the backseat.

"Shut up!" Logan and I shouted at the same time. I glanced at Bobby and saw that he had his eyes squeezed tightly shut. I felt bad that he was the one to call Ross, but I was driving, so he won by default.

After another minute, he disconnected the call and then he turned on the radio, moving the sound balance so that the music only came out in the back.

"He's got Narcotics on stand-by," he told me in a soft tone. "We'll follow the drugs to their destination and then call it in. He was very explicit in his instructions that we are only allowed to _watch_ until back-up arrives."

"How mad is he about Frankie?" I whispered back.

"Mad enough," he admitted. "But I think he understood. I think he's just trying to figure out how he's going to explain all of this to Moran."

"If we pull off this drug bust, Moran won't worry about explanations. He'll be too busy primping in the mirror, getting ready for his press conference."

"You ready for this?" he asked me. I knew what he meant. Once we were back, we were back. It was a good possibility that this would be our last case as partners. I wished I weren't driving so that I could hug him.

"Yes. We're doing the right thing here, Bobby. I know you wanted to walk away, but…"

"No, it's the right thing. I was being selfish when I suggested that."

"You are many things Bobby, but I would never ever call you selfish." I glanced at him quickly and he tilted his head, giving me a little smile.

"Handsome, sexy, smart, caring, affectionate, loyal…do you want me to keep going?" He chuckled softly.

"No, you can finish later."

"I will, too," I promised. I owed him a little bit of ego-boosting after all of my insecurities lately. But now we needed to focus on this bust. The plan was to watch, but if something went down before Narcotics could get there, well…we would do what we had to do. But we had no vests, only a small amount of ammo, and it would be three on God-knows-how-many.

"Hey, Goren," I said.

"Yeah, Eames?" he replied, taking my cue to return to business. He turned off the radio and sat back in his seat.

"Holland Tunnel's coming up."

"Let's go get us some drug dealers."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It was after eleven when we cleared the Holland Tunnel and nearly midnight by the time we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Mariella was taking a long, circuitous route through the city and I had no doubt that it was because of the fact that Frankie was missing. We had her nervous.

I still had Alex's phone so I used it to send Ross a text. _Headed into Brooklyn on Flatbush_. We may not have a specific destination yet but at least he could start mobilizing the troops in the right direction.

"We're going to Floyd Bennett Field," I finally guessed as we continued on Flatbush past Kings Highway. I quickly passed that along to Ross.

"The old air field?" Logan asked.

"They still use it for the NYPD air squad, and some emergency services units, but it's mostly abandoned," Alex said. I gave her an appreciative look. Her wealth of knowledge never ceased to amaze me.

"Wouldn't that be kind of a risky place to conduct a drug deal?"

"I don't know. It certainly wouldn't be the first place cops would look," Alex replied. I nodded.

"That's right. It's like a fox hiding in a henhouse," I added.

"You guys have no idea what you're getting in to," Frankie piped in.

"Then tell us, Mr. Mafia Man," Logan chided. "You didn't even know there were drugs in the car, did you?"

"No, but if Mariella's involved then it's got to be some serious shit."

"So who else will be here?" I asked. It couldn't hurt to pump the guy for a little information. "The old man?"

"I'm not telling the cops shit."

"I'm not a cop," Logan countered. "And you better start talking, or I might just have to hand you back over to Mariella." Frankie visibly paled.

"What do you think, Logan?" Bobby asked. "Is he more afraid of jail or his girlfriend?"

"Definitely the girlfriend," Logan said with a grin. "Hey Frankie, I've gotta ask."

"What?"

"I've _seen_ Mariella. Why in the world would you cheat on such a fine-looking woman?"

Frankie grinned and for a minute, I didn't think he was going to answer.

"Because I can," he said finally.

"What a dumbass," Alex muttered. And then she called out loudly, "No, I guess you _can't_, genius, because you got caught and the girl you cheated on would just as soon put a .22 in the back of your head!"

Alex was pretty pissed about that whole idea, and I decided it was something I would have to ask her about later.

"So let's hear it, Don Juan," I said, bringing the conversation back around to its focus. "What are we going to find here?"

"A couple dozen mobsters, most likely," he said easily. Either he'd decided that snitching was his best bet, or he was just making something up so that we would get off his back.

"A couple dozen? For a drug run?" Frankie just shrugged. I decided that it was a waste of time trying to get anything from him. He might've been Mariella's boyfriend, but that ship had sailed and he wasn't going to be privvy to any important information.

We passed Marine Park Golf Course, and as I had deduced, Mariella drove the Impala into Floyd Bennett Field. Alex had dropped back to a half-mile behind ever since we passed Avenue U because there were no other cars left on the road. Headlights would be a dead giveaway. Logan got Barek back on the line and she led us through the airfield, off the beaten path, and down an abandoned runway.

"Carolyn pulled up this place on a map. There's a deserted hangar all the way on the east end of this runway. It backs up to Jamaica Bay."

"We need to park and get out," I said. Alex had killed the lights after arriving at the airfield, but I still didn't want to take any chances.

"What about Al Capone back here?" Logan asked.

"Do you have anything we can work with?" I asked, gesturing towards the back of the SUV. I had a feeling Logan was a prepare-for-everything kind of guy.

"I've got an emergency road kit...some tools…tie-down straps," Logan said, rattling off the contents of his vehicle.

"Zip ties?" I asked hopefully. Logan gave me a slow grin and nodded.

"I think so, yeah."

We were stopped along the side of the runway, about halfway to the hangar. Logan got out and searched through his supplies in the back. He found the plastic zip ties and brought them around to the side.

I climbed into the backseat with Frankie and double-checked his handcuffs. He was still secure. Just to be safe, I used the zip ties, one around each ankle and then one to hold them together. I then took a fourth and put it through the undercarriage of the front seat and then through the tie that was holding his ankles together. Maybe it was overkill, I don't know, but I hated to leave a suspect unattended.

"I don't think he's going anywhere," Alex confirmed when she saw what I had rigged up.

"I'm going to be dead if someone finds me here," Frankie said. "How am I supposed to defend myself?"

"You're not," Logan said. "Slide down in the seat." Logan pulled a blanket out of the back and tossed it over Frankie.

"If you stay like that, no one will see you. It's up to you," Logan told him. He locked up the vehicle and we started walking.

"You'll have to stay outside, Mike," Alex said.

"Why?"

"You're not a cop anymore. I know you've got a permit to carry that weapon, but if you fire it while trespassing inside private property, it won't be self-defense."

"Eames, I appreciate that you're trying to protect me, I really do. But this whole place is government property. If I fire my weapon inside or out, I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do. But I'd rather do that than stand by while one of you two gets shot."

Alex didn't argue with him and neither did I. I didn't want to see Logan get into any trouble, but I also knew that we needed all the help we could get. If he shot his weapon while saving the life of an officer, I had a feeling we could keep him in the clear.

It took us several minutes to walk the rest of the way to the hangar, and I was a little afraid that we might miss the transaction, but when we got there, eight cars were parked around the exterior of the building, including the cadi and the Impala.

"We know there were three all total in the two cars we followed. That leaves six cars. Four each at the most, that's two dozen," Alex said, sounding wary.

"How long before Ross shows up?" Logan asked. I pulled Alex's phone out of my pocket and checked it, but there were no new texts.

"I don't know. He said he'd text when they got to the entrance of the airfield."

We circled the building until we found a good vantage point, and then the three of us peered through the window.

"Holy shit. What is this, a whole mafia convention?" Logan said softly. Two dozen had been a good estimate. Six of them were forming a group and were surrounded by the remaining men. Large bags of coke were laid out on a table in the middle, as well as several suitcases which I presumed were filled with cash.

"There's Masarro," I pointed out. "And Mariella."

"I recognize some of the other faces from the records I pulled," Logan commented. "Bianchi, Giordano, Greco…we've hit the mafia jackpot."

The phone buzzed quietly in my pocket and I pulled it out. _Entering the airfield now. _I replied: _Hangar at east end of airstrip. Two dozen, mostly on OCCB watchlist_.

"Ross is almost here. Three minutes, maybe four."

"What's Mariella doing?" Alex asked. I looked and saw that she seemed to be inconspicuously working her way out of the inner circle.

"Something is getting ready to go down here, and I don't just mean a bust," Logan said ominously. I could feel it, too. We weren't just watching a drug deal. We were witnessing some kind of attempted coup.

The thought had barely gone through my head when the first weapon was drawn. Within seconds, it was a standoff. A dozen men on each side, facing each other with assault rifles and handguns at the ready.

"We've got to do something," I said, although I had no idea what. Walking into this would be suicide. And then I heard it. It was Ross, along with SWAT and Narcotics. Dozens of cops in vests, descending upon the building.

"It's going to be a blood bath in there," I told Ross as I intercepted him near the front of the building. I told him what was going on, and he instructed the troops to circle the building and enter from all sides.

There was shouting going on inside and time was running short. Ross gave the word to move in, and I watched as officers swarmed from every direction, weapons pointed at the mobsters. As the mafiosos dropped their weapons, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to look at Alex. She was watching the far side of the building, straining her eyes to see through the darkness.

"Mariella," she said, so quiet that I almost didn't hear her. And then she hopped up and took off running.

"Eames!" I called, standing up to see what was going on. Mariella must have slipped out just before the raid. She was running away from the hangar. _Shit. _

"Get back-up," I told Logan as I got up.

"I'm back-up," I heard him reply and I didn't wait around to argue. I started running as fast as I could, but Alex had a lead on me and she was closing in on Mariella, who was attempting to run in heeled boots. I don't know where she thought she was going to escape to, because there was nothing that direction but Jamaica Bay.

I was closing in on Alex as she chased Mariella out onto the pier, but I was still a dozen or more yards behind her. I could hear Logan breathing heavily, so I knew that he was fairly close behind me.

"Boat!" Logan shouted, and I looked to the end of the pier. There was a speed boat docked there. By this time Mariella had nearly reached the end of the pier and Alex must have seen the boat, too, because she fired a warning shot. Miraculously, Mariella stopped.

Mariella dropped her gun and held her hands up, with her back still to Alex. I was almost to the edge of the pier when Mariella made like she was going to get down on the ground, but then she pulled a gun from her boot.

Everything moved in slow motion as she turned on Alex with the gun pointed at her chest. They both fired at the same time, and I stopped and popped off three more shots. Mariella's body was propelled backwards and she fell hard onto the wood.

I continued to run toward Alex, but she took two steps toward Mariella, and then staggered sideways. She fell off the pier and into the bay.

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Logan** **POV**

* * *

I watched in horror as Eames fell into the water. Goren was running towards her like an Olympic sprinter but he couldn't reach her before she went it. He never slowed down, just went straight on into the bay after her.

I turned around toward the hangar and saw that Ross had come out and was heading our direction, the shots likely having caught his attention.

"We need a bus!" I shouted as loud as I could. I turned back towards the pier and ran down to the spot where I last saw Goren and Eames. I glanced over at Mariella and the hole in her forehead assured me that she was no longer a threat. I looked down and saw blood on the pier where Eames had been standing. The pier itself was dimly lit, but looking over the edge, all I could see was darkness.

"Goren!" I yelled.

"Goren!" I called again.

Nothing.

I jumped in.

It was further down to the water than I had expected, and once I hit the water I realized just how cold and dark it was. It was September, but we'd already had several nights in a row where the temperatures had dipped down into the forties. It certainly felt colder than that now.

The bay was rough and the waves pulled me up and down as I felt around frantically in the water.

"Goren! Eames!" I shouted over and over. And then I heard something.

"Logan!" It was Goren. He was farther out into the bay, away from the pier and away from the land.

"I'm coming!" I assured him as I started swimming towards his voice.

"You got Eames?" I asked as I got closer. _Stupid question_. Goren would never have called my name if he hadn't already found her. Goren wouldn't _breathe_ without Eames.

"She's been shot in the leg. She must be losing a lot of blood because she passed out a minute ago," Bobby said, his voice filled with panic. But a leg shot, that was okay. It was a lot better than some of the alternatives.

"Ross is getting help," I told him when I finally reached him. "What can I do?"

"I'm having trouble keeping her head up and pressure on the leg at the same time," he admitted. I felt around in the water until I touched Eames' foot and then I worked my way up her leg. Goren's hand was clamped down on her thigh, so I put mine over top of his.

"I got this. You get her head." He eased his hand out from under mine and then shifted around in the water until he had one arm under each of her arms, with her head resting against his.

"She's breathing," he said, probably more for himself than for me.

"How are we going to get her in?" I asked, unsure how the three of us were going to swim while still keeping her leg from bleeding.

"Ross knows we're out here?"

"Yeah, he came out right after you two went in."

"He'll get us out," Goren said, expressing a confidence in his captain that I didn't know he had. I guess butting heads and disagreeing about things did not mean a lack of confidence in ability. It took a good man to be able to distinguish the two.

After only a few minutes, we heard a boat and saw a spotlight playing across the water. _Why hadn't I jumped in the boat_, I wondered briefly. But I knew the answer. I wasn't willing to risk the extra time it would take – if the keys were missing, or if it didn't start up right away…anything that might have prevented me from finding them quicker.

But Ross had gotten a boat, and whether he had called in the Coast Guard or commandeered Mariella's boat, I didn't care. Goren and I started shouting, and after another few minutes, the boat headed in our direction.

The boat approached us and it was NYPD Harbor Patrol. They handed over a rescue basket, and we managed to secure Eames inside. She hadn't regained consciousness yet, but I was still hopeful.

"You're captain's at the pier. He's got a bus waiting for you," the harbor patrol officer assured us. "It'll only take us a minute."

And it did. One minute later, Eames was being loaded onto the ambulance and Goren climbed in right behind. He gave me a look just before the doors closed, and I didn't have to be Eames to know what he was saying. _Thank you_.

The chills had set in by the time the EMS pulled away, and one of the harbor patrol officers gave me a blanket from the boat.

"You probably should've gone with them," Ross said to me as I started shaking uncontrollably.

"I'll be fine."

"No, you _should've_ gone." I closed my eyes at the sound of her voice. _Carolyn_.

"When did you get here?" I asked her as she came up to me and wrapped her arms tightly around me. Ross stepped aside ostensibly to give us a moment.

"Apparently about two minutes after you jumped in the bay," she said reproachfully. Although I knew she didn't mean it. She would've done the exact same thing.

"I am _so_ glad to see you," I whispered, leaning into her embrace.

"Right back at ya," she said. "I didn't know you could swim."

"Yeah, well I didn't either," I admitted. She rubbed her hands up and down my arms in an effort to restore my body heat.

"You're going to have to get out of these wet clothes or you're never going to warm up," she told me.

"I've got some in the…shit!"

"What?" she asked simultaneously with Ross.

"Frankie Moretti. He's still in the car." Ross rolled his eyes at me, but I wasn't going to take any of his crap. "Hey, we got him, didn't we? Him and a couple dozen other guys that the OCCB has been chasing for years."

"You driving the SUV?" Ross asked me. I nodded and fished through my wet pockets to see if my keys were still there. They were, so I tossed them to Ross and he called an officer over to go get Moretti from my car.

"I'm guessing Mariella is dead, right?" I asked, looking towards the end of the pier. The body was still there.

"Oh yeah. She took three to the chest and one to the head. Who fired?"

"Eames once, Goren three times." I had had my gun out, but Goren was in my line of sight, so I hadn't been able to take a shot. "And that was after she fired at Eames," I clarified. Ross nodded.

"There's a .38 and a .22 near the body."

"Eames had her drop her weapon. But then she pulled one from her boot and fired. I'm betting that .22 will match up to the murder of Paulie Visucci."

"Captain, can we go over the details later? Mike really needs to get some dry clothes on before he goes into hypothermic shock," Carolyn said, taking charge of the situation. She didn't wait for Ross' reply, but instead took me by the arm and guided me toward the airstrip.

"I want to go to the hospital. Can you find out where they're going?"

"I asked before the boat came back. Beth Israel ER. Get changed and we'll go."

A half-hour later, Carolyn and I were sitting in the waiting room of the ER, trying unsuccessfully to keep Goren from pacing. He was still in wet clothes, his teeth chattering like crazy, but he refused to help himself until he knew Eames was okay.

"She's going to be fine, Bobby," Carolyn said in her soothing voice. Goren continued to wear down the finish on the tiles.

"Did she wake up in the ambulance?" I asked him carefully. I wanted to know, but I didn't want him to freak out about it if she hadn't.

"Yes, but she seemed a little out of it."

"That's perfectly normal," Carolyn assured him. "She lost some blood and spent several minutes in cold water. She'll come around."

"I think it was a through and through," he continued. I wasn't sure if he even knew we were in the room, but the talking seemed to keep him calm so we just let him go. "There was a lot of blood so it was hard to tell for sure, but I think...um...I think I felt an exit wound on the back side."

"Who is here for Ms. Eames?" a doctor said as he entered the waiting room. Goren crossed the room in three strides and stood looming over the doctor.

"I am. How is she? Can I see her?"

"Sir, just relax. She is going to be fine. The bullet went cleanly through her thigh, missing the bone completely. She's got some tissue damage and the muscle will need time to repair itself, but she'll be fine."

I watched Goren as he heard the news and then it seemed as though all of the air left him. He sank down into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. I can't swear to it, but it looked like he was saying a prayer.

"When can I see her?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"Now. She's awake, and if you're Bobby, then she's asking for you."

* * *

Two hours later, Ross arrived at the hospital. I wasn't sure if anyone had called Eames' family yet, but I didn't think it was my place to do so. Goren would likely do it once he allowed himself to leave her side for a minute.

Carolyn went down to the cafeteria to get some coffee and I stood behind Ross as he watched Goren and Eames through the window of the hospital room door.

"They make the department look good," I said, startling him. He turned around to look at me. He appraised me carefully, and then stuck out his hand. I shook it.

"Thank you for your help, Mike. The department owes you a debt."

"It's about damn time," I said with a grin. I loved being a cop more than just about anything, but trying to get along with the brass had just been too much for me. It was nice to know that I was appreciated, finally, even if it didn't come until after my retirement.

"Come down to 1PP tomorrow so we can go over your statement. I want to get it all while it's still fresh in your mind."

"No problem," I agreed.

Ross turned again toward the window, watching his two detectives. I looked, too. They weren't doing anything obvious, nothing that could be construed as inappropriate, but the emotions flowing between them were like a living, breathing thing.

"I meant what I said. About those two. They're damn good cops and the department owes _them_ a debt."

"I know," Ross admitted.

"Only an idiot would say something to their superiors that might cause them to get assigned different partners."

Ross looked at me sharply and I held his gaze until I thought we were on the same page and then I turned to walk away.

"And I don't think you're an idiot," I added over my shoulder, just for good measure. "See you tomorrow, Captain."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Alex POV**

* * *

Nearly a week passed before I heard from Ross. He was trying to be good, I'm sure, and let me recover in peace. Especially since I was technically still on vacation. It was Sunday, and I was due back tomorrow, although I would obviously be on desk duty for a little while.

Bobby had talked with Ross a few times since the incident at Floyd Bennett Field, but only about things relating to the case. Those two were circling around the personal issues like two wolves around piece of raw meat.

Ross had allowed Bobby to take the extra time needed so that he would return to work on the same day as me. Bobby said that Ross only mumbled something about hypothermia warranting a few days of sick leave. My money is on the fact that Rodgers made him do it.

I spent most of the week in Bobby's bed or on his couch. My family had swarmed the hospital the morning after the shooting, but I had shooed them away after a short visit. I love them and they mean well, but a little bit of a big family goes a long way. I was exhausted and the hospital was going to let me go home, so I convinced my family that I was in good hands. I was surprised that none of _them_ seem surprised that I was going to Bobby's. _Did everyone know we were in love with each other before we did? _

So, it was now Sunday night, and as I said, I finally heard from Ross.

"Detective, how are you feeling?" he asked when I answered my cell phone. I hadn't told him that I was staying at Bobby's, of course. There was very little doubt anymore that he knew the truth, but I'll be damned if I was going to be the one to say anything out loud.

"Much better," I told him. "I've been able to get around without the crutches. I'm already working with a physical therapist."

"Are you still planning on coming back tomorrow?"

"Yes sir."

"And your partner?"

"As far as I know," I replied vaguely.

"Good. I want both of you in my office at nine o'clock. Will you pass the word along to your partner?" I don't understand why Ross has so much trouble saying Bobby's name. He won't call him Bobby and rarely calls him Goren. In fact, he usually avoids calling him anything at all except 'your partner'. Although now that I think about it, I like the sound of that just fine. I was very worried about exactly how long that title would be accurate.

"Of course, Captain."

"Okay then. I'll see you in the morning."

"What did he want?" Bobby asked from his position on the couch. My head was resting comfortably in his lap and he continued stroking my hair.

"Meeting. Nine a.m."

"This is it, isn't it?"

"Probably," I conceded. And then I gingerly rolled over onto my side and reached my hand up to cup Bobby's cheek. "But we'll be okay, I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," he said quietly. I raised my eyebrow at him. "I do know," he insisted. "It's just that work takes up so much of our time, and if we're not together there and then maybe we don't get coordinating shifts, and then the next thing you know we will have gone days without seeing each other except in passing at the office…"

"Bobby," I interrupted softly. He sighed and moved his fingers around to trace along my ear and my throat.

"Yeah?"

"We're going to be okay. Most couples _do_ work different jobs. We might have to try a little harder to make a point of having time for each other, but we can do it."

I could feel the emotions coursing through him, and I knew he was struggling against this potentially monumental change, but I gave him time to let my words sink in.

"You told me a couple of weeks ago that you're all in, right?" I reminded him.

"Yes."

"Me, too. Not just when it's easy. Anybody can do that. I'm all in, all of the time." I reached up and kissed him, putting all of my love into that simple act. He responded in kind, and I slowly felt the tension leave his body.

* * *

I heard a knock at the door, so I got up to go see who was there. It was strange because I was able to walk almost normally with no pain at all. I looked around the apartment, but I didn't see Bobby. _Where did he go_?

More knocking had me moving faster to the foyer. Without looking, I flung the door open.

"Well, well. It's good to see you again, Detective Eames." Frankie! He was pointing a gun at me, and I reached to where my holster should be, but then I realized I was only wearing pajamas.

"Who is it?" Bobby asked me, suddenly appearing behind me.

"It's Fran…" I began, but as I looked back up I realized that it wasn't Frankie. It was Vincenzo Masarro.

"You killed my niece!" he shouted, holding an AR-15 assault rifle out in front of him.

I was frozen to the spot. I couldn't move, couldn't scream…and then Bobby shoved me out of the way and pulled his gun from behind his back and started shooting, but Masarro had an automatic and he pulled the trigger and bullets went flying everywhere and Bobby fell back onto the floor in a pool of blood…

"No!" I screamed. "Bobby!"

"Alex! Alex, wake up!" I heard Bobby's voice and I realized that he was shaking me gently. We were in his bed, and he was alive. I reached for him and gripped him as tightly as I could. I didn't even realize that I was crying until I felt his t-shirt dampening under my cheek. He held me and soothed me softly, running his hands over my back and hair.

"It's okay, honey. It was just a dream. Everything is fine."

I was soaking wet with sweat and the images from my dream were so vivid that I couldn't shake them.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No, I'm fine," I said quickly, self-preservation as my first response. I hated showing weakness. But Bobby kept holding me and I realized how silly that was. He would never judge me, and we each had our own demons. Sharing would only make it easier. So I told him.

"Frankie's in jail in Richmond waiting for his trial," he assured me. "And Masarro is in Riker's."

"I know. But we killed his niece. You don't think he's going to try to get some kind of revenge?"

"He might. But we've put a lot of criminals away. If we start worrying about all of them coming after us, we'd never be able to sleep at night," he said reasonably.

"I know," I said again, taking deep breaths to bring myself under control. "I know, it just seemed so _real_."

We settled back down into the covers and Bobby held me close. It was the first time that I'd had a nightmare about Masarro and I wasn't sure what had brought it on unless maybe it was just the thought of going back to work. Whatever caused it, I finally forced those images from my mind and slowly drifted back to sleep.

At nine o'clock sharp, Bobby and I entered Ross' office. He closed the door behind us and went around to sit at his desk. He was playing the control card, keeping us as his underlings on the visitors' side, while he was the king on his throne.

"IAB cleared you both in the death of Mariella De Luca," he began. He pulled out my and Bobby's service weapons and laid them on his desk. "It was a good shoot."

He paused as though he expected us to respond to that, but I didn't. I hadn't ever doubted for a second that the shooting would be classified as justifiable. I had the hole in my thigh to prove it.

"And Detective Goren, I finally received your badge from the Richmond PD along with their apologies for losing it in the first place." Ross set the badge on his desk next to our handguns. The mention of Richmond in general brought the tension in the room to new levels. _This is it. He's going to tell us now that we're done_.

We maintained our silence. Ross looked back and forth between us, apparently trying to get a read on us, but we gave nothing away in our expressions.

"So the chief called down. He wanted to know how all of this transpired. How it came to be that two MCS detectives managed to make the biggest bust in OCCB history, not to mention bringing in a large shipment of cocaine."

I wanted to run. I didn't want to hear him say the words. _New partner_. I don't want a new partner! I wanted to scream and shout and throw things. But instead, I sat like a stone.

"And I told him that it was a good thing your aunt needed to go to VCU for medical treatment. Otherwise you two would've never been down there."

I think a whole minute passed before his words completely filtered into my brain. My eyes flew up to meet his.

"Sir?" I said shakily, sure that I had misheard him.

"By the way, how is your aunt, Bobby?" I whipped my head around and looked at Bobby. He was just as shell-shocked as I was.

"I…um…she…I…she's going to be…um…just fine...sir."

"Good!" Ross said enthusiastically as he rose up from his chair. He gestured towards our items on his desk and we collected our things. "Glad to hear it. I think there is quite a bit of paperwork waiting for you two out there, so I won't take up any more of your time."

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me," Logan said as he reached for his beer. He and Carolyn had called to meet up with me and Bobby after work.

"I couldn't believe it either," I said, shaking my head. "I still can't."

"Well, I guess he's not an idiot after all," Logan said with a wink at Carolyn.

"Oh hey," Carolyn said. "Do you two think you can stay out of trouble for a week or so? Me and Mike were thinking about taking a little trip ourselves."

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny," I laughed. "Take your damn trip. We'll be fine. Just don't go to Richmond."

"We're on desk duty for two weeks. What kind of trouble can we get into there?" Bobby asked, but he had a mischievous grin on his face that said otherwise.

I sat back and drank my beer, enjoying the down time. Logan had blown off my attempts to thank him for not only his help with the whole fiasco, but also for helping Bobby get me out of Jamaica Bay. But he's humble, and all I did was make him blush a little more.

It was nice to be out with friends, and although it had been two freakish events that had brought the four of us so close, I was glad it had happened.

My phone rang, and pulled it out to look at the display. I couldn't help but frown when I saw that it was Ross.

"Yes, Captain," I answered, straining to hear him in the loud bar.

"Eames, is your partner with you?" _Is this a trick question_? No, Ross had let us off the hook, so he wasn't going to try to catch us now.

"Yes sir. We're with Logan and Barek at McNally's, down the street. Why don't you join us?"

"Eames, listen to me." I waved my hands at the others to get them to quiet down.

"Yes sir."

"Vincenzo Masarro just escaped custody."

**The End**


End file.
